


One Way Ticket

by Tarlan



Series: One Way Ticket [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Community: fanfic100, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-22
Updated: 2006-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:40:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 39,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack O'Neill needs a vacation... away from Earth...so what better place than a whole new galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Way Ticket

**Author's Note:**

> This idea had been festering in my brain since RISING...figured it was time to actually write it down :-)
> 
> Also for Fanfic100 #86 Choices

"Incoming wormhole established."

Rodney glanced across as the Canadian gate technician, wondering if he could pick up the man's name by some hitherto unnoticed telepathy if he tried hard enough. He gave up almost immediately when he realized that he didn't really care, knowing the name would stick once he'd heard it enough times. Instead, he addressed the man in the most expedient way as he stepped forward briskly.

"You, move."

Whoever the man was, he was learning because he had pushed against the floor and sent his chair wheeling away, much to Rodney's disgust as he had meant to oust the occupant and keep the seat for himself. Not willing to take the time to get another seat, Rodney leaned over the console.

"It's the SGC," the Canadian tech sergeant reported.

"What do they want?" The last set to step through from the SGC had been a bunch of military grunts led by that imbecile Colonel...whose name he'd already forgotten, though Rodney felt a spark of guilt because the man had learned about the Wraith the hard way. Still, he'd walked through the gate with a smug grin, declared martial law, refused him access to the planning briefings and then expected him to save his and his marines' collective asses, along with Rodney's own people, without so much as an apology.

"Lower the shield," Elizabeth ordered as she walked up to stand right behind him. Her hand drifted to his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Best behavior, Rodney."

"I assure you, I'm always on my best behavior," he stated, knowing it was easier to fake umbrage than admit that he had been having evil thoughts. A snort from one of the other stations had his head snapping round and he narrowed his eyes, unable to track down the individual when all of them were doing their best to hide a smirk.

The surface of the wormhole rippled and, suddenly, two men in SGC uniforms were stepping into the gate room. Their eyes widened with the awe that hit most newcomers, which was surprising really, as both of them must have seen incredible sights in their time, and one had actually been here once before, though only for a very short visit. It made Rodney feel elated, to know that even jaded SGC team players could feel awe at this place Rodney called _home_. Even better, though, was the delight Rodney felt at seeing an old friend once again.

Rodney had not noticed Sheppard's arrival but he followed him down the magnificent stairs with Elizabeth right behind him, only stopping when he was in Daniel's personal space and accepting the manly hug of friends reunited. Beside Daniel, General O'Neill raised his eyebrows, looking at them in a mixture of bafflement and pique.

"Don't I get a hug?" O'Neill held out his arms but had to make do with a salute from Sheppard and a nod of greeting from a smiling Elizabeth.

Later, Rodney would wonder at the source of that insane urge but, suddenly, Jack O'Neill was a solid presence against him, with Rodney's arms wrapped around a frame bulked out by the tactical vest and uniform jacket. Covering the shock of his own actions, Rodney pulled back just as O'Neill's arms reciprocated, though far more lightly.

"Wouldn't want you to feel left out, General."

Rodney stepped away fast, grabbing Daniel's arm and half dragging him towards the stairs in his attempt to escape before the slightly flustered General regained his equilibrium, only for Daniel to pull to a stop. His blue eyes were fixed on the risers of the staircase, lips moving in silence as he read the Ancient inscription of welcome. Once he finished, his eyes darted to Rodney, warmed through with excitement and pleasure. He knew how much Daniel had wanted to be part of the original expedition but Earth had needed his knowledge of the Goa'uld and then the Ori more than the expedition had needed his knowledge of the Ancients.

"I'm here," he breathed, and though Rodney knew that, technically, Daniel had been here before, he understood the difference this time around. Last time had been part of a mission with little time to savor the sights and sounds of the Ancient city, or to spend time with a friend. With worlds falling to the Ori almost daily, Daniel had forced his pleasure at finally being on Atlantis into the background, seeing but a small fraction of its wonder before the Odyssey took him and his team back to the Milky Way.

"Yes. Finally! So, let's not waste any more time, hmm. The translation program for the Ancient database threw up a number of inconsistencies and Elizabeth doesn't have the time to deal with all of them, and everyone else around here is useless."

"Including you?" Daniel murmured, only to smile at Rodney's affronted expression.

"Of course not, but I don't have time to translate every confusing passage."

"Rodney, I'm sure Dr. Jackson would be more than happy to provide a translation service for you...once he's had a chance to stow his gear and look around."

Rodney frowned at Sheppard's raised eyebrow, before seeing it mirrored on both Elizabeth and O'Neill's faces. Daniel seemed as vague looking as always, as if already caught up in something that demanded most of his attention, and Rodney followed his gaze up to the beautiful stained windows that cast soft pastel shadows across the equally beautiful, tiled floor.

"Oh. Right. I'll...um...I'll show you to your room and then we can get started on those translations--"

"Rodney?"

He quirked an irritated glance back at Elizabeth, "--after a short tour of the city." Rodney started up the steps but looked back when he realized he was on his own. "Coming?"

Daniel pushed up his glasses in surprise, raising both eyebrows. "Oh." He grinned and followed Rodney, leaving the gate room behind.

**--**

"Well, that went well." Jack grinned, his smile encompassing the other two thirds that formed the triumvirate of Atlantis.

He let them lead him up the stairs towards a conference room, and only years of military action prevented him from showing how much that simple, unexpected hug had affected him. He knew this had nothing to do with getting laid because he had never been short of bed partners, finding plenty of women eager to bathe in the glow of power he exuded as an USAF General. Problem was, he would rather have felt masculine arms around him, masculine strength of muscle beneath a flat-chested body, and larger hands to map the contours of his own. He had tried one of those female bodybuilders once but it wasn't the same because one important part was missing...and he had felt McKay's half-hard against his thigh, the contact firing the pleasure center of his brain, even through thick layers of cloth.

Despite appearances to the contrary, Jack's observational skills were exemplary and he could see everything about Rodney McKay clearly from that brief contact as if the scene had played out in slow motion. The brilliant eyes shining as blue as the pool of energy swirling within the Stargate, the sinfully long lashes that swept down to dust the high cheekbones, and a crooked mouth that begged to be straightened with kisses. All of it wrapped up in that broad, masculine frame that held far less of the sedentary chubbiness than Jack recalled from Antarctica, though he would bet that part of that was an illusion brought on by the thick clothing worn in the cold Ancient outpost. The reminder of that insulation made him uncomfortably aware of the heat within his own body though he knew a good proportion of that had come from the tactile memory of that heavier body in his arms.

Jack slumped into a seat on one side of a triangular table, facing both Elizabeth and Sheppard, pleased to see Sheppard take the hint and relax too. The paneled doors closed smoothly, closing them off from the prying eyes and ears of others. As Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak, Jack held up a hand, no longer able to bear the weight and heat of his combat gear in the close surroundings.

"Would you mind if I discarded some of...this?" He indicated towards his vest, gun and jacket.

Elizabeth gave one of those quirky smiles that gave her permission, using a diplomat's patience to wait until he had resettled into his seat without the cumbersome ordnance and clothing. She leaned forward onto her elbows, hands clasped in front of her, green eyes intense.

"So...What can we do for you, General?"

Jack grinned. He loved it when people cut out the crap and got right down to business, finding his control returning as his focus turned away from the remembered feel of that hard body in his arms to this self-elected mission to Atlantis. He leaned back, unable to resist the smug grin.

"Nothing." He saw the flicker of confusion between the military and expedition leaders. "I'm on vacation."

"Vacation?" Sheppard seemed stunned, and Jack had to admit that most people would have chosen a sun-drenched beach on Hawaii over the Wraith-filled Pegasus galaxy but even Hawaii had its sharks.

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for wide expanses of water. Thought maybe I'd catch a little fishing off the north pier, take in the sights..." He blew out a breath and smiled, hands splayed wide in nonchalance.

"Keep an eye on Dr. Jackson?" Elizabeth added with far too much perception, her eyes narrowing inquisitively.

"Exactly." He lowered his hands to the table. Jack could see more questions sitting on the tip of Sheppard's tongue but knew the Colonel would refrain from questioning him. He sighed, knowing Elizabeth and Sheppard had a right to know what was going on. "Okay...I'll level with you. Daniel had a run in with some nasty types on...some planet with..." He waved his hand, knowing the planet was of little consequence. "He needs some time to recover away from the SGC, and the Goa'uld, and the Ori."

"We have the Wraith," stated Sheppard sardonically.

"But not here in the city," Jack responded.

"But what we do have in the city is a lot of work for a linguist and anthropologist of Dr. Jackson's outstanding ability," Elizabeth added.

"Again...Exactly. Daniel gets to play in the Lost City of the Ancients, translating...stuff..."

"And you get a little fishing in," finished Sheppard with a grin.

"Privileges of rank, Colonel."

The two of them shared a grin and Jack relaxed further, knowing he did not have to explain that he needed this break, from all the politics and hard decisions of protecting Earth, just as much as Daniel.

**--**

Rodney bounced on his heels as he watched Daniel's delight at seeing the magnificent spires of Atlantis from one of the balconies. It was a sight Rodney never tired of either though he rarely made time to indulge in that particular joy these days.

"So...You finally made it. A chance to actually work in Atlantis rather than..." He waved a hand, knowing Daniel would understand the reference to his previous whirlwind visit.

He knew he was stating the obvious--again--but, for once, he couldn't be bothered to correct himself. Having Daniel here was a pleasure he could barely contain, besting his personal fantasy of Sam Carter arriving on Atlantis by an order of magnitude even if she was one of the hottest women he'd ever met. However, Daniel was one of the few friends he had made in either galaxy; even-tempered, highly intelligent and easy going with no hidden agendas. Amazingly, they had gelled from the start, or maybe that was not so amazing from Daniel's side of the equation as Daniel seemed to make friends with extreme ease wherever he went. Still, they had managed to survive two months of almost living in each pockets in Antarctica, without Daniel trying to hit him or kill him. It had to be a record where Rodney's friendships were concerned as Rodney was well aware of the reputation he had gained for being arrogant, petty and basically insufferable. Not that he cared what other people thought of him.

Okay, maybe he cared about some people's opinions but not the rest of them.

When Daniel discovered the eighth symbol, all their late night talks of lost cities had become a terrifying reality. Antarctica would still be manned by scientists and military alike but a greater mystery, the stuff of legends, had come to light and they had both wanted to be a part of it.

Initially, Rodney thought he would be the one left behind. They had all heard the rumors that the chief scientist post had been offered to Sam Carter, with _The Powers That Be_ wanting to combine two disciplines in one body--soldier and scientist. If the rumors were true then she had refused, preferring to continue her work with the Asgard technology at Area 51 to a, potentially, one way ticket to the Pegasus galaxy. Rodney had sighed in relief. The Atlantis Expedition would be his and the first name he put down on his list of scientists for the mission was Daniel's. He had hoped, right up until the last minute that Daniel would join them, but General O'Neill had vetoed Daniel's inclusion and Rodney's first attempt to make O'Neill change his mind had been met with surprise followed by an adamant, _NO_.

It had not stopped him from asking again but, like Sheppard, once O'Neill had made a decision, it was difficult to make him change his mind. Perhaps it was something in the military mindset that made people like him and Sheppard so intractable, he thought, viciously ignoring his own obstinate nature.

Looking back, Rodney's only regret on taking that first step through the Stargate to Atlantis was not having Daniel by his side, knowing they might never meet again in this life. He had no romantic interest in the man, though he wouldn't have kicked Daniel out of his bed had Daniel been that way inclined, but he had missed his friend, especially during those first frightening days where it was all too easy to see death lurking in every shadow of the Ancient city. He had missed the dry humor and the gentle teasing that would ease his more foolish concerns, disarming any paranoid thoughts with a gentle quip or a reassuring pat.

Over time, John Sheppard had filled in that gap, with his laid back attitude, his laconic smile, and his hidden intelligence. So much like O'Neill.

Rodney frowned, having never thought of General O'Neill and the Colonel in the same breath before but there were amazing similarities between them right down to the way they both pretended they were little more than grunts right up until they went in for the kill. How many people had fallen for that naive act? How many people had each of them charmed both in and out of bed? And why did the thought of O'Neill and bed flip his stomach in that unsettling way?

"Rodney?"

Daniel's eyes were twinkling, his head tilted at a questioning angle and Rodney was embarrassed when he re-ran the last few seconds to find he had drifted off into his own thoughts while Daniel was awaiting an answer to some question posed.

"Sorry," he flipped a hand almost negligently. "I was..."

"A galaxy away?"

He felt like saying his thoughts were far closer to home but that would open him up to teasing and probing, and Daniel was surprisingly good at extracting secrets from him. Within two months in Antarctica, Rodney had confessed his bisexuality and to being the one to break his dad's lucky golf club when he was ten, for which he had blamed Jeannie. The amazing part was that neither of his dark secrets had fazed Daniel in the least.

"Why did you hug Jack?"

Rodney froze, then laughed nervously, until Daniel squeezed his arm, grinning broadly.

"Just haven't seen Jack so lost for words in a long time."

"Is that good or bad?"

"Oh good," Daniel murmured. "Definitely good."

The call through his headset prevented any further discussion as Elizabeth reminded Rodney of his promise to let Daniel settle in before he allowed him anywhere near the Ancient database this time around.

**--**

"Damn it."

Daniel swore softly as he reached a dead end on the latest translation. He had spent several days working on this translation but the images recorded from the ruins on P3X-377 were incomplete following a minor earth tremor that had the exploration team fleeing the unstable ruins. However, Daniel was convinced that the object being revered by the long lost inhabitants was a ZPM. The description was too close; its color, size, shape, and the reference to it being an object of immense power. The dialect used was obscure, even by Ancient worshiper standards, but the planet was on the list of addresses handed to Elizabeth before Janus followed his people through the Atlantis Stargate back to Earth.

He glanced up as Jean Hess entered the lab carrying fresh coffee. She set the mug down beside Daniel and eased into the seat next to him with the sufferance of someone who spent far too long hunched over ancient texts.

"Any progress?"

"Were there any other shots..?"

"No." She shook her head apologetically. "The ruins were unstable and the seismic activity was increasing by the hour. We returned to find the Wraith were on their way. After the Siege, we sent through a MALP to check conditions on the planet." She shook her head.

"Bad?" he asked.

"We do not know. MALP lost telemetry immediately upon arrival. No visual, nothing."

Daniel sighed heavily. He was convinced that this fragment of the wall referenced a ZPM but, without the rest of the panel, he had no way of telling its location. Still, this had to be enough evidence to convince Elizabeth to send another MALP through, especially now that Atlantis had bartered for enough raw materials to make more MALPs on demand. Daniel pushed up from his seat and strode towards the door, stopping on the threshold when he realized Dr. Hess was watching him in confusion.

"Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"To see Elizabeth."

Elizabeth looked up when Daniel knocked and peered around the threshold, even though she would be able to see him through the clear wall. Her eyebrow arched questioningly.

"P3X-377," he stated, seeing her eyes narrow in recognition. "I need to go there. *We* need to go there."

Ten minutes later, Daniel glanced around the conference room at the five other persons present. Jack and Colonel Sheppard sat on the long side of the almost triangular-shaped table while Carson and Elizabeth sat on another. Rodney had commandeered an entire long side for himself, his laptop booting up within seconds of him placing it down in front of him, and he looked up from it with barely concealed irritation at being called from his lab at short notice, leaving Daniel with one of the shorter squared off corners.

Elizabeth glanced around the table. "P3X-377."

"One of the planets listed on that piece of paper," John responded immediately while Rodney merely looked confused.

"I thought we'd decided it was not worth the risk of mounting another--"

"Yes we did, but Daniel has made some progress in translating what little data we retrieved and thinks--"

"There could still be a ZPM there," Daniel interrupted, looking around at each face expectantly before fixing on Elizabeth.

"Dr. Hess didn't see any references to--"

"She was looking at the wrong..." Daniel huffed, and dragged out a large sheet of paper, knowing it was easier to show rather than explain. He smoothed the paper over the flat surface of the table and stood up, pointing to a line of characters copied from the digital footage taken from the ruins. Daniel tapped on one particular subset. "We thought this said _capable_ but it's not an adjective...it's a noun."

"Capability?" Sheppard frowned.

"More like potential," Daniel stated softly, focus flicking towards the other side of the table as Rodney's eyes widened.

"Or Potentia."

"Yes."

"Potentia?" Jack murmured, an eyebrow in confusion at a word that seemed overly familiar on some subconscious level. He could see confusion on Beckett's face but dawning enlightenment on Elizabeth's and Sheppard's. McKay answered Jack's question, his impossibly blue eyes turning to Jack and holding him fast, sparkling with wide-eyed excitement. His lips were parted with wonder, forming a soft 'O', and Jack felt a desperate urge to taste those lips, to see them wrapped around his hardened flesh, sucking and licking. He pushed aside the need quickly as McKay carried on without noticing.

"That's what the Quindoza on Dagan called the ZPM. The Potentia." His eyes darted to Daniel as if to draw confirmation before coming back to capture Jack's once more. "It's an Ancient word."

Jack frowned as the word Potentia and the image of a ZPM stirred more images in his mind, as if dragging out a long forgotten memory. This had happened with increasing regularity since his recovery from having the Ancient repository downloaded into his head for a second time. He thought all he had learned had been wiped clean by the Asgard technology on both occasions but now he was not so certain. Of late, his dreams had become more vivid, filled with ideas that were alien to him, triggered by even the most normal events in his day, by faint scents and strange familiarity. A child's toy with its glowing colored buttons had reminded him of beautiful music coming from a device that was achingly similar, and a simple, rarely used word derived from a long dead language forced images of long forgotten worlds, of multicolored, multi-faceted crystals aligned in perfect harmony.

Small frown lines wrinkled McKay's forehead and Jack realized that he had been staring at the quirky, handsome face for several beats too long. He covered up with a patented double raised eyebrow, grateful that no one else seemed to have noticed his sudden preoccupation as they moved on with the discussion excitedly.

"If there is a ZPM on the planet then we need to go back and check it out." Sheppard had leaned forward, eyes intensely focused on Elizabeth.

"May I remind you that there's a good reason why we haven't been back?" McKay flicked his eyes around the table. "Earth tremors, unstable ruins, destroyed MALPs? Any of this ring any bells?"

"What about one of those flying MALPs?" Sheppard asked.

"The UAVs? We don't have any--"

"The Daedalus brought several with them on the last run."

McKay looked surprised. "It did? Why wasn't I told?"

"I'm telling you now."

"Yes, yes but it would have been far more useful to have been told several weeks back when we could have employed one of them instead of wasting time building a--"

"Rodney." A stern word from Elizabeth brought the potential diatribe to a halt.

"I'm just saying--"

"I know." Her eyes tightened. "But can we just focus on P3X-377."

McKay subsided. "Right, right. Fine, but I want a list of all cargo brought in by the Daedalus in future."

"ZPM, Rodney?"

"Yes. The ZPM." He paused in thought and Jack almost smiled as McKay took on a similar vacant expression that all three of his former scientist teammates employed when they went deep in thought. Sam would get a little frown line between her eyes while Daniel and Jonas would purse their lips by the slightest amount. McKay's face took on a dream-like expression, as if he had magicked himself away to another world. The light behind his glazed eyes switched on suddenly.

Beckett spoke up for the first time. "I'm not too happy about our people walking into a potentially dangerous atmosphere. If the seismic activity has released sulfurous and acidic gases up into the atmosphere then that would have a detrimental effect of whoever--"

"We can add additional sensors for determining the air quality, and without compromising on the flight capabilities of the UAV," Rodney huffed, as if he had expected someone to raise that point and felt triumphant in beating them to it, "if we remove the secondary camera."

"UAV?"

"Unmanned Airborne Vehicle...sort of like a MALP with wings."

"Oh!"

McKay opened his mouth to contradict Sheppard's simplistic description but Elizabeth forestalled him. "Then you have a go, Rodney."

McKay snapped his mouth shut and nodded tightly before gathering up his laptop and rising from his seat, the meeting obviously over. He stepped briskly towards the paneled doors as they swung open automatically but he faltered on the threshold, looking back over his shoulder at Jack. McKay frowned, shook his head and carried on walking away but Jack could not deny the curiosity underlying McKay's expression. Nor could he deny his own interest in seeing what other expressions could cross the lead scientist's face, lust and desire being foremost.

As he moved to follow, he heard Daniel speak up again.

"If telemetry is clear then I want to be part of the off-world team."

"And if you go, I go," stated Jack, having no intention of allowing his friend to wander the Pegasus galaxy alone.

"Tell you what." Sheppard crossed his arms. "We'll all go. My team and...yours."

Jack grinned, glad to see evidence that Sheppard had taken the talk they'd had earlier to heart. As far as Jack was concerned, he was here on vacation, and the military command of Atlantis would remain under Sheppard's control unless Sheppard did something really dumb and forced Jack to pull rank. Accompanying Daniel on this mission was a case in point, and now he had the added bonus of knowing McKay would be there too. Perhaps longer exposure to the irascible scientist would knock some sense into his errant thoughts and put a stop to the confusing desire that had grown with each encounter.

**--**

"Ready to launch UAV. Dial the planet," Rodney called from the main atrium as he closed the panel on the side of the UAV and stepped back. The UAV was mounted on a launch pad in line with the center of the Stargate, its operation lights blinking in readiness. He looked up and watched as the chevrons encoded quickly, locking onto the Stargate co-ordinates for P3X-377. The whoosh of the wormhole activating never ceased to amaze him, bringing a tiny smile to his face.

"Wormhole established, Dr. McKay."

"Okay," he breathed and raced up towards the control room with a grin. The technician knew better than to be in his way, scooting aside and letting Rodney have full access to both the launch controls and the laptop that would relay telemetry. As he moved swiftly between two stations, he frowned at the body standing in his way. "General?"

The feel of O'Neill's hand as it brushed Rodney's arm seemingly by accident sent a tingling through him, momentarily distracting him from the task at hand. He thought he had recovered quickly but a glance up revealed a sly grin directed at him from Daniel and he was certain his face flushed in response. He could feel the heat in his cheeks and hoped he could pass it off as the excitement of the upcoming mission should anyone else notice. Rodney glanced across to Elizabeth, knowing she would prefer to be the one to give the okay for launch."

"When you're ready, Rodney."

"Okay, firing up main engines and releasing docking clamps." Studiously, he watched the panel in front of him but glanced down at the Stargate quickly as the engines fired and the UAV shot through the Stargate. A double step sideways brought him in front of the laptop as he waited the seconds it took for the UAV to reach the receiving Stargate. Camera's came on immediately and all Rodney could see was sky.

"What the...?" Rodney's confusion faded as the UAV arced and the land slowly came into view.

"Make a pass over the gate," Sheppard demanded, and Rodney could see the sense in this, turning the UAV. His eyebrows climbed into his hairline as it became obvious as to what had happened to the Stargate on P3X-377.

"It's fallen over...backwards." Rodney harrumphed in surprise. "Would explain why the MALP gave no telemetry." He turned to the others. "It wouldn't have had the momentum to clear the horizon, and once the gate shut down..." Rodney let that hang for they all knew the consequences for a matter stream that failed to exit a Stargate in a discrete package. It would have ceased to exist.

O'Neill blew out a breath. "So the only way through is a running jump..."

"Or Puddlejumper," finished Sheppard.

O'Neill gave a tight smile of agreement. "I prefer your option, Colonel. The knees aren't up to a hop, skip and jump these days."

Daniel smiled wryly, well aware of the physical wear and tear on his former team leader.

"Well," Rodney rubbed his hands together briskly. "The good news is that the air is clean. Obviously, the seismic activity dislodged the Stargate but, horizontal or vertical, it still works."

"Then you have a go gentlemen, Teyla," stated Elizabeth, her eyebrow quirking upwards.

"Yes. Right." Rodney instructed the UAV to land close to the Stargate so they could retrieve it by Puddlejumper and then he set out after the others, catching up with them as they walked towards Sheppard's favorite Puddlejumper, codenamed Jumper One. He took his customary place behind Sheppard and was not really surprised when Ronon let the General take the co-pilot seat while Daniel stayed with Teyla in the back, most likely continuing with an earlier conversation about the Athosians.

He could hear Daniel and Teyla conversing quietly behind him but Rodney could not help his eyes flicking to the man who sat beside Sheppard, taking an opportunity to look closer at the man without him noticing, hopefully. The brown and sun-drenched blond hair of youth had given way to a distinguished gray and silver and, physically, O'Neill was in great shape, his body lean and muscular, and his profile strong and handsome. Rodney knew O'Neill had intelligent, brown eyes and, unlike some, he knew the laid-back attitude hid a razor-sharp mind.

Following the Anubis incident, Rodney had made it his business to check out all pertinent data regarding Jonathan _Jack_ O'Neill and he was not surprised to discover that the man held a Masters degree. O'Neill liked to pretend that he was stupid, even more so than Sheppard, but Rodney knew the USAF would never trust one of their multi-million dollar planes with an idiot, nor would the US government leave an idiot in charge of the intergalactic side of Homeland Security. Yet Rodney wondered what had compelled O'Neill to take a desk job when it was obvious from this past week--and from previous first-hand knowledge of the man--that he was not suited to a sedentary, politically-driven lifestyle. He was the kind that needed to lead from the front, to travel and explore new worlds, to be the epitome of Star Trek, seeking out new life and new civilizations...not sitting in endless meetings, day in and day out, arguing with politicians.

The man who had walked through the Stargate onto Atlantis five days ago was far different from the one who sat next to Sheppard today. His brown eyes were sparking with curiosity, flicking over the jumper controls, fingers itching to take control from Sheppard. His body was coiled tense, humming with excitement like a child about to start out on a trip to Disneyland, and that energy seemed to ignite everyone and everything. The jumper controls were reacting even faster with the presence of two strong gene carriers, putting an excited grin on Sheppard's face too.

"Be safe."

Sheppard acknowledged Elizabeth's farewell and set the Puddlejumper in motion, diving toward the Stargate and exiting seconds later straight up into the P3X-377 sky. Despite the inertia dampeners, Rodney felt a moment of queasiness until the Puddlejumper reached its apogee and began to descend in a lazy curve, flying once over the horizontal Stargate before landing close by.

"Let's pick up the UAV first, boys and girls, and then we have the rest of the day to play."

Rodney tightened his lips against the objection that threatened to spill but it made sense to get the chores out of the way first, especially if the planet was still unstable, forcing them to make a quick getaway later. Rodney joined Ronon beside the UAV and helped him lift it into the back of the Puddlejumper. Admittedly, he left Ronon to take most of the weight but the man had muscles after all, and Rodney was a scientist, not a manual laborer.

"Ow, ow, ow!" Rodney hopped aside as the UAV rolled on the Puddlejumper floor, threatening to break all his toes, earning him a snigger from Sheppard and a barely concealed grin from O'Neill. "Yes. Very funny."

"Well, if you'd taken your share of the load, Rodney, then...," Sheppard started.

"Or perhaps if you'd taken *any* of the load, Colonel?"

Sheppard grinned again and Rodney huffed in annoyance and returned to his seat after shaking out the twinges in his foot. A twitch of Teyla's and Daniel's lips showed he was not going to see any sympathy from that quarter so he eased himself back into his seat behind Sheppard, griping softly under his breath until he remembered that Ronon could hear his every word. A teeth-bared grin met him as he looked across to Ronon, and Rodney swallowed hard even though he knew he had nothing to fear from the large Satedan.

The Puddlejumper rose smoothly into the air, veering off towards the distant ruins, and Rodney shuffled in his seat when O'Neill sent an upraised eyebrow and smile back in his direction. Damn, but he was acting worse than a schoolboy with a crush, and O'Neill didn't even have blond hair and breasts like his hallucination of Sam Carter. Rodney refused to dwell on what O'Neill did have over Sam as he recalled the way those strong arms had settled around him during that impromptu hug. Damn, but he had missed the feel of muscular arms holding him tight, of bruising strength commanding his body, forcing him to submit to another's demands without fear of torture or knives or having the life sucked out any part of him other than his dick.

The landing was one of the smoothest in memory and the back came down quickly, revealing the outside world with its broken down columns and debris scattered across a wide area. Rodney followed O'Neill down the ramp, eyes dropping to the firm ass before he caught himself looking and forced his eyes upwards.

"Okay, folks. Remember where we parked," O'Neill stated once he had cleared the ramp.

Rodney stared at first O'Neill and then Sheppard, taken aback by the similar offhand comment. "It's uncanny. They must make air force pilots from the same mold."

O'Neill and Sheppard narrowed their eyes at each other and then smiled, both deciding to take it as a compliment, leaving Rodney shaking his head in dismay. He looked up sharply, though, when Daniel called from the entrance to what must have been an amazing building once. Now it was little more than a pile of stones but Rodney could see aspects of its architectural brilliance still preserved after all these millennia. Hurrying over, he pulled his Ancient equivalent of a PDA from his top pocket and began to scan the interior to ensure it was structurally sound.

"Well, Rodney?"

"A moment, Colonel." Rodney made one final sweep and then looked up. "I wouldn't want to spend too long in there but, for now, it's safe enough."

"Okay then, Dr. Jackson, you have a go."

Rodney stared into the darkened interior, his courage wavering but curiosity won out. He pointed inside with one finger. "I'll be..."

"I'll go with them, make sure they don't get into any trouble."

"How about we both go with them," Sheppard replied, eyes narrowed as if he expected trouble to find them, but Rodney had to admit that their off-world missions were rarely boring events. "Ronon and Teyla will watch our six."

Rodney did not bother to wait for Ronon and Teyla's agreements before he strode inside the darkened passageway, hard on Daniel's heels, not wanting to give himself a chance to change his mind. He hated small, dark places. He had hated the sense that the walls were closing in on him even more so since his ordeal in the back of a sinking Puddlejumper. He tripped over some debris on the floor and jumped when he felt a hand gripping his forearm, catching him before he fell.

"Easy, Doc. It's just me."

"General!"

Rodney took a couple of deep breaths, taking strange comfort from the hand that had remained in place, guiding him through the poorly lit passage. He could see the bobbing light from Daniel's P90 flashlight and focused on it. The light disappeared for a moment, as if turning a corner and then, suddenly, he was stepping into a large chamber with O'Neill by his side. Lights began to glow from the surrounding walls, reacting to the arrival of ATA gene carriers, and increasing in brilliance until the entire chamber had more than adequate lighting to dispel even the darkest shadows.

It looked like any number of Ancient chambers found on other worlds, with a sheen reflecting from its partially metallic walls in muted blues and aquamarines, except the walls had been defaced, covered from floor to ceiling with symbols depicting a dialect close to Ancient. Rodney's command of Ancient was on par with both Elizabeth and their top linguist, though no match for Daniel's, so he could make out some of what was written. Still, he knew he ought to leave that aspect of this chamber to Daniel and concentrate on the control panel with its array of dulled and broken crystals. The rip of separating Velcro echoed a little as Rodney pulled his laptop from its storage placement on his backpack and, within moments he was lost in his own world as he tried to interface the laptop with the seemingly dead Ancient system.

**--**

Jack had forgotten how tedious some missions could be, with nothing to do while his scientists tinkered with whatever new toys they had found, whether that was an ancient script on a wall or an alien artifact partially buried under the weight of time. In many ways, this particular mission was no different, with Daniel murmuring under his breath as he translated between bouts of scribbling in his notepad, except his genius astrophysicist was no blond.

Or even female, he reminded himself silently, unable to resist a flicker of a glance in McKay's direction but appreciative of the view nonetheless. He swallowed around a suddenly dry mouth as McKay leaned over the console, material stretching tight across a nicely rounded rear, revealing more muscle than fat in the surprisingly lean body now the baggy pants were drawn taut around thigh and ass. He looked away quickly. Of course, McKay was still no Greek statue with a six-pack stomach from doing a hundred crunches a day, but then Daniel had only started to buff up recently, following Jack's decision to leave SG-1.

It occurred to Jack that maybe that was Daniel's gut response to no longer having him watching his back. Perhaps that was Daniel's insecurity showing, like the nervousness that made him push at his glasses, sometimes unnecessarily, when the situation had grown tense on a mission. Jack had to admit that it felt strange not having Carter and Teal'c in close proximity but McKay was every bit as much of a genius as Sam, and in the same field, and Ronon had the same silent yet menacing edge about him as Teal'c, as well as the large frame.

McKay muttered and cursed again, berating the laptop and the Ancient console as if both were living, breathing creatures. Yet, rather than finding this irritating, Jack found it amusing, actually preferring the running monologue over Sam's silent, intensity. At least he knew where McKay was at, both in the task at hand and in physical location.

That thought drew his eyes back to the scientist, attention caught by the agile fingers dancing over the controls of both laptop and console with a familiarity that had stopped being amazing after so many years of watching Sam do the same. Instead, Jack felt a different sense tingling through his body, one that tickled in his belly and warmed through his groin. He took in a deep breath and exhaled loudly. So much for believing the additional exposure might deaden his desire for McKay.

Sheppard drifted over; he nodded towards a still muttering McKay. "Carter like that too?"

Jack frowned and pursed his lips. "Not so much." He sent a wry smile across to Sheppard. "Quieter...but...I kind of like the running commentary."

Sheppard grinned back. "Least I know where he is from one minute to the next."

"Exactly."

Sheppard looked over his shoulder towards Daniel, who was still alternating between under the breath mumbles and frantic scribbling. "Then again--"

Daniel called out sharply. "Jack! We're looking for a secret room hidden inside this--"

McKay exclaimed loudly, drawing attention back to him as he turned to give them a triumphant grin. "Am I a genius or what?"

"I don't know, Rodney. Care to enlighten us?"

McKay frowned for a split second, knowing he was being teased, but it was not enough to throw him off track and the triumphant grin returned as he depressed a key with a flourish. Jack sprang back, noticing a similar reaction from Sheppard, as part of the wall opposite the room entrance shimmered and disappeared, leaving a man-sized doorway in its place. Jack threw an annoyed glance back to McKay, mirrored by Sheppard.

"A little warning, perhaps?" Sheppard seemed exasperated more than annoyed.

Jack's annoyance did not linger for long as McKay's face fell, eyes wide and impossibly blue with childlike remorse...for all of a second before belligerence flared within them, and McKay went on the defensive.

"Exactly what did you think I was doing here for the past five hours, hmm? Looking for Ancient porn?"

Daniel seemed oblivious as he walked over to the doorway and tried to penetrate the darkness within by sight alone, almost taking a step inside before Jack could grab his arm and pull him back.

"What, what...will you wait a second?"

Now this he did recall well from SG-1, tempering Daniel's inquisitive nature before curiosity overcame common sense got him killed.

"After ten thousand years, I doubt anybody's home, Jack."

"Tell that to the ten thousand-year-old super-wraith we found at the edge of the star system," Sheppard remarked, and Jack noticed the way McKay's face paled, his eyes filling with despair at remembered loss.

Jack had read all the reports sent back by the Atlantis expedition during that one-point-whatever second data burst, recalling the wrong assumption that had cost the lives of two of McKay's science team, and almost his and Sheppard's lives too. Neither of them was to blame though, for who could have anticipated an enemy that, quite literally, slept like the dead, revealing no sign of its presence until it had already killed one man and mostly drained another.

For all that the Goa'uld were the stuff of ancient myths and legends, in comparison the Wraith were the stuff of late night horror movies and nightmares. He had seen Everett following the siege of Atlantis, gated home along with all the critically wounded and horrifically aged. Everett had not lasted long after his return, palsied with accelerated aging, yet singing Sheppard's praises when before the mission he had been ready to vilify him for the death of Sumner.

"I'll go first," Sheppard stated, not waiting for an acknowledgment before stepping through the doorway for Jack had relinquished his rank for this mission, agreeing to defer to Sheppard.

Jack waited a beat and then followed, noticing how the chamber beyond had already started to react to the presence of an ATA gene carrier.

"Is it safe?" McKay called out from just beyond the threshold, his survival instincts battling with his need to see and touch everything.

By the time Sheppard determined it was safe enough, McKay was chomping at the bit asking, "well?" every few seconds.

"Okay, okay, Rodney. It's safe..." McKay darted into the chamber with Daniel close behind, both sets of eyes wide with excitement, trying to take in everything at once, "...hopefully." McKay froze, spinning towards Sheppard.

"Hopefully? What do you mean hopefully? "

"I mean it's safe...as far as I can tell."

Jack bit back a grin as McKay looked on, horrified, eyes darting towards the shadows as if seeking out Wraith or some other hidden danger.

"Let's just get on with the mission, see if you can locate that ZPM."

**--**

Jack clapped his hands, the sound echoing around the chamber, startling both Daniel and Rodney. "Okay, kids, time for bed."

"What?"

"Jack?"

They both exclaimed at the same time, like a weird form of stereo but Jack merely raised his eyebrows in a way that brooked no argument. Not that it stopped either of them from trying nonetheless.

"I just need to translate this last passage--"

"Half an hour and I'll have this figured--"

"Dinner and bed. No exceptions."

"But Jack?"

"General?"

"Uh uh uh uh uh," he waggled a finger. "If you don't go now, I'm sending you both to bed without dessert...and it's chocolate krispie cakes."

Daniel stared hard at the wall in front of him, trying to gain one last glimmer of meaning from the increasingly familiar glyphs before sending a beseeching look in Rodney's direction, and finding the same turmoil written across Rodney's expressive face as the astrophysicist was torn between continuing his work and the lure of food and bed. They had both worked solidly this day, with the PowerBar wrappers scattered around them as the only concession to hunger. Daniel rubbed his tired eyes, blinking owlishly as the glyphs seemed to wiggle before his eyes. No doubt, Rodney was just as worn out.

"Half an hour, General," Rodney stated, adamantly, crossing his arms and raising his chin in belligerence.

"Now, Doctor."

Daniel winced, having witnessed that intractable look on too many occasions to count, knowing from experience that when Jack said _NOW_ , he meant **NOW**. Rodney shuffled his feet, arms loosening as the battle of wills was fought and lost. His tightened lips scrunched up into a childish pout and he huffed loudly and stomped back to his laptop.

"This is so unfair!"

Rodney snapped shut his laptop and stomped towards the chamber's exit, grumbling under his breath about the military, and certain Colonels and Generals in particular, and whether they had a right to give him orders. Daniel took advantage of the situation to scrawl a few more glyphs and their translation into his note book before he heard his name spoken in *that* tone.

"Daniel?"

He pointed towards the wall. "I'm just going to take..." A tilt of Jack's head. "O...Kay. Maybe I'll work on the rest later," he murmured and followed Rodney from the chamber to the ante-chamber where Sheppard was raising his eyebrows in that same implacable expression until Rodney stopped waving his hands about and gave up on trying to convince Sheppard to override Jack's orders and let him go back to work. Daniel glanced sideways at Jack, catching a softened expression of pleasure on his friend's face. By the time Daniel flicked his gaze to the object of that affection--Rodney--and looked back, Jack's face was shuttered. It made little difference though, for Daniel knew what he had seen. Almost a decade of friendship and two ascensions/descensions had opened his eyes to Jack's needs, so clearly written on what would have seemed a perfect poker face to most anyone else.

He knew there was a time when Jack had entertained the thought of throwing away his career and asking him to become more than a close friend. Instead, Jack had accepted promotion, removing himself from Daniel's presence and from the constant temptation of a relationship that was frowned upon by the US military. Although Daniel regretted the loss of Jack from his side, having come to rely upon him for a sense of security and protection, part of him had been grateful that he had not been forced to choose between a relationship with Jack and the Stargate program. He loved Jack, loved him with all of his being, but not in the overwhelming, passionate way that Jack needed. Deep down, Jack knew that too, knew that what he felt for Daniel was just a deeper version of the same love he felt for Teal'c and Sam; four people becoming family through adversity and pain, through triumph and despair.

Choosing promotion had been a mistake. A man like Jack was never meant to spend the rest of his career sitting behind a desk, talking politics and becoming embroiled in petty intergalactic squabbles and their impact upon Earth. He was meant to be out there, seeing the universe and making it a safer place. The effects of his self-inflicted prison sentence had weighed heavily upon him, aging him before his time with only a lifetime of standing straight and tall preventing him from looking hunched and broken. The man who had stepped through to Atlantis five days ago had reminded Daniel of the soldier who had accompanied him to Abydos on that first trip through the Stargate. In contrast, the man standing beside him now was reverting back to the vibrant, life-loving, curiosity driven Jack that had returned from Abydos; the man who had thwarted the Goa'uld plans for galactic domination and had saved the Earth on numerous occasions, the man who had been his best friend and team leader for the better part of eight years before letting others tie him down to a desk.

Secretly, Daniel had hoped Jack would find someone special one day, someone who was worth the loss of his career, someone who was worth Jack giving up everything for...but he had never anticipated that someone being Rodney McKay. Yet it was so obvious to Daniel how Rodney's presence affected Jack. He thought he had seen Jack in love before but that time was but a pale reflection of what he could see now. Now he saw the stolen glances, the longing barely hidden, the unnecessary brush of a hand whenever Rodney drew close...and that quiet smile that warmed the brown eyes; a smile that had been missing for far too long.

Knowing of Rodney's bisexuality, Daniel was not amazed at Rodney's returned interest in Jack but the depth of that response had taken him by surprise. Rodney's social skills were sketchy at the best of times but when emotions came into play as well, he became a stammering wreck, saying all the wrong things, touching inappropriately or not at all as he missed the cues. His desperation to get laid would put the other party off, ending either with a frosty put down or a slap, depending on how terrible he had been in his advances. The difference this time was fascinating and the anthropologist within Daniel wondered if that was because lust was not the driving force. Oh, he had no doubt that lust was a part of the equation, they were only human after all, but there was something more besides; admiration, respect, perhaps that same sense of security and protection that Daniel had always felt around Jack. Of all people, Rodney needed that security blanket most, needed to feel safe, needed to be able to close down that brilliant mind and relax, letting someone he trusted make a few of the decisions for him.

As Daniel settled down, cross-legged, beside the small fire that Ronon or Teyla must have built while he and Rodney worked inside, he looked at Sheppard's profile, highlighted by the small flames dancing between them. Sheppard might easily have been the person Rodney needed, having the same strength and solid presence as Jack but, as with him and Jack, the spark needed to turn best friends into lovers was not there but the tingle of need in his own belly as Sheppard turned, eyes catching his and breath hitching, made Daniel wonder if that spark might exist between them instead. He swallowed and looked away as Ronon handed him a plate piled high with something that was, hopefully, edible.

"They'd better be chocolate krispie cakes," Daniel heard Rodney mutter to Jack, gaining a full grin in response that dropped the last few years of a soul-destroying desk job from Jack's face, leaving him as handsome as Daniel recalled him from that very first meeting.

**--**

"I need to use..." McKay's words trailed off as he pointed in the general direction of the latrine set up when they first landed.

Although the Puddlejumper had toilet facilities, they were not made for comfort, only for expediency on long flights, and as everyone expected to spend at least part of the night sleeping in the back of the Puddlejumper, it had made sense to locate the latrine elsewhere.

Jack watched as McKay climbed to his feet and headed towards the low bank of broken wall. He noticed Sheppard watching too, body held a little tenser as McKay disappeared from view. He knew that feeling all too well from years working in the field, though not so much with the soldiers under his command as they were well trained and he had to trust them to do their job. Daniel and Jonas, and now McKay, were different though. A bright shiny object or a scrawl across a wall could distract them at an inopportune moment, causing them to forget to take precautions and go off into the night, so keeping a tight rein on his scientists had always been a full time job. A full minute passed with no sign of Rodney returning.

"I'll go check on him...make sure he hasn't wandered off." Jack glanced between Sheppard and Daniel, the implicit, _you keep an eye on my scientist while I'm gone_ , was not lost on Sheppard judging by the twitch of a smile and the lessening of tension in his lean frame. Jack noticed a similar reaction from Ronon. Obviously, they were both familiar with the wandering scientist problem.

By the time Jack reached the low wall that gave a modicum of privacy, McKay was out of sight but a rattle of small stones off to one side gave him a direction to follow. He came across McKay on his knees, hands brushing at the centuries of moss and grit covering what once might have been the elaborate entrance to another important building.

"McKay?"

The scientist visibly jumped, head whipping round to stare in wide-eyed fright at Jack, like a deer caught in the headlights but he recovered quickly enough. The light from the second moon reflected off his pale face, emphasizing the blueness of his eyes and adding an ethereal touch that turned McKay into some magical creature, achingly beautiful. A shock of desire raced through Jack and he was glad he was standing with his back to the bright moon, casting his heated face into shadow.

"What are you doing way out here, General?"

"More to the point, McKay, what are you doing out here?"

A guilty look covered some other indefinable emotion, and those blue eyes darted away as McKay started up in defense mode. "I saw something glinting in the moonlight and went to inves--"

"Shiny object."

"What?"

Jack saw McKay's confusion and grinned indulgently. "How about we investigate the shiny tomorrow? In daylight...after you've had a few hours sleep."

"General--"

"Jack," he responded. "I left my rank behind on Atlantis this trip."

"Oh?"

Jack saw a certain look in McKay's eyes, recognizing it instantly. "Which doesn't mean I don't get to order you around." He indicated back towards the flickering campfire, smiling as soon as McKay's back was turned, and following a few paces behind the disgruntled scientist.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow questioningly at McKay's scowl, hiding a smile of his own as his wandering scientist was brought back safely into the fold. McKay shot a disgusted look towards Sheppard and Jack before he ducked into the Puddlejumper with a clipped remark that he was going to sleep.

"Ronon and I'll take first watch," Sheppard stated. Jack nodded his agreement as it made sense to have Teyla and her telepathic awareness of the Wraith standing watch with him. Daniel and McKay would be left to sleep because they were already working long hours on the technology and the scrawl within the ruins. They needed to be refreshed if they were to make better progress tomorrow as Jack had a feeling that Sheppard would scratch this mission before tomorrow's nightfall and bring in a long-term science team. Jack knew he would do the same in Sheppard's place, not willing to waste the time of two valuable scientists.

Jack followed McKay, pausing on the ramp leading into the Puddlejumper and smiling as he watched McKay go through a complicated bedtime ritual before finally slipping, mostly dressed, inside his sleeping bag. McKay's face peeked over the top of the bag, forehead creased into a scowl.

"Sure you don't want to tuck me in as well, General. Perhaps sing me a lullaby?"

"Not unless you're looking for that Ronon guy to shoot me...and it's Jack, remember?"

He stripped off his TAC vest and laid it close at hand before quickly running through his own ablutions and then sliding into the sleeping bag next to McKay. Startled blue eyes stared at him across the gap of barely six inches.

"Wouldn't it be better if you slept closer to the door? I mean, if the Wraith came in the night then--"

"--I'd need to get to the Puddlejumper controls fast so I could power it up ready to make our escape."

"Yes. Right. Good idea." He shuffled in his bag, drawing the material tighter around him. "Hmmm...Where's Daniel?"

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be here any minute now." Movement at the edge of the ramp drew his eye. "There you go."

Jack dropped off to sleep quickly, a skill he had developed as a soldier under combat conditions, though one small part of him remained aware of his surroundings, ready to waken him at a moment's notice. Amazingly he slept well that night, with the strange dreams of softly glowing panels and haunting music wrapping snugly around his mind as he inhaled the scent of Rodney McKay.

**--**

The heavy weight banding across his back pulled Rodney from a deep sleep, and he lay still for a moment as he registered the hard floor beneath him and the claustrophobia of a semi-darkened Puddlejumper surrounding him. Rodney turned his head to the side, the heaviness of sleep dissipating when he found O'Neill's face scant inches from his own, his warm breath fanning over him, silver hair glinting in the low light of the Puddlejumper.

In sleep, O'Neill looked impossibly young, with the lines of too many deaths and hard decisions erased from his handsome face. His eyelids were flickering as if caught in a dream, a good dream judging by the way his lips twitched into a smile. Rodney smiled too, warmed by the vulnerability too often hidden by the seasoned soldier. Those lips twitched again, plumping into a pout that begged to be kiss and Rodney could resist no longer. A slight tilt of his head and his lips grazed over O'Neill's, tingling at the delicate contact before Rodney quickly pulled away in shock at his audacity.

Long lashes flickered and sleepy brown eyes opened, still vulnerable and softened with affection. His tongue peeked out to taste his own lips as if he had registered the butterfly kiss on a subconscious level and was seeking its source. The change was rapid, the soldier replacing the man when those eyes met and held Rodney's gaze. Rodney felt a rush of guilt flood his face, unable to hold eye contact lest O'Neill read the transgression in his eyes. He should not have kissed him. He should not have succumbed to the desire that had been building within him since O'Neill arrived on Atlantis. Except Rodney knew his feelings for O'Neill went back further than Atlantis, originating in the utilitarian corridors of the SGC and its barren control and gate room, and from a time when the fate of the Earth lay in his and Sam's hands as Anubis overloaded the Stargate. O'Neill's fate had been in his hands too, for the subroutine Rodney had written on the fly had kept the hyperspace window stable for the vital few seconds O'Neill needed to eject from the X-302.

Rodney was used to hiding behind a shield of denial, refusing to admit that he had formed a crush on the then-Colonel, burying it beneath the more acceptable desire for the beautiful and talented Sam Carter. A simple hug had stripped away all the pretense, and this simple one-sided kiss had damned him forever. Filled with misery, Rodney began to roll away as O'Neill pulled back his arm but the hand hooked on Rodney's shoulder, preventing him from turning away completely. The brown eyes narrowed, as if searching for some hidden secret, a flicker of surprise and the curve of his mouth showing that he had found what he was looking for, found something in Rodney's eyes that went beyond the purely platonic.

Feeling awkward and flustered, Rodney was never more grateful to hear Teyla beckoning to Jack from the ramp, realizing he must have missed their earlier turn at watch because the sky was lightening behind her; Rodney had intended to make an early start in the morning. He swept back the sleeping bag and clambered out, studiously ignoring O'Neill's raised eyebrows, using bluster and arrogance to cast a shadow of doubt over any deeper emotions.

Though his team were used to his single-minded pursuit of knowledge, for once, nobody questioned the speed with which he shoveled in his breakfast or his breakneck speed as he clambered over the ruins and back inside the chamber to work on the Ancient technology. Rodney breathed a sigh of relief when Teyla appeared in the doorway and then took up residence just inside the chamber, relaxing for the first time since that inappropriate kiss.

An hour later, with his whole mind, and his upper torso, immersed in the intricate machinery, Rodney snapped his fingers in the direction where he had last seen Teyla.

"Pass me the blue-handled..."

The tool slapped into his open palm and he grunted his acknowledgment before carrying on working, prizing open the inner panel that housed the last tangle of transparent vermicelli-thin, optic fibers that he needed to re-route so he could power up the damaged segment of the control panel. If he was right--he snorted softly--then this would allow access to the database contained within, and once he had that, he could search for any data pertaining to the ZPM.

"Tweezers."

He snapped his fingers impatiently when they were not laid in his hand right away, fingers curling over when the imperious demand was met with silence. Rodney wriggled around a little but he could not see Teyla's smaller feet anywhere within his, admittedly, restricted line of sight. He sighed heavily, resigned to having to crawl back out from under the console and retrieve the necessary tool for himself. As he squirmed out of the last few inches, knees and boots scuffing on several millennia of dust and grit, he caught sight of a large pair of standard issue SGC boots, angled outwards as the owner crouched beside him. Rodney's eyes walked up the olive green pants to a black TAC vest covering a simple military issue black t-shirt.

Rodney swallowed hard because he knew this was not any of his team, and it was not Daniel either. He let his eyes move up to O'Neill's face.

"Rodney?"

"General!"

"Jack." O'Neill raised an eyebrow. "Especially now we're on slightly more intimate terms."

"Intimate?" The squeak in his voice put Rodney to shame as he'd had every intention of downplaying his lack of restraint from earlier that morning.

"I'm usually on first name terms with people who kiss me."

"I didn't..! I mean I did but I...I..." Rodney frowned, and then realized attack was better than defense. "Your face shouldn't have been so close if you didn't want to...to get...int..."

"Intimate?"

"Yes. It's all your fault, _General_. You should show more restraint and not...cuddle people in their sleep."

O'Neill's lips twitched, possibly in remembrance of the so-called cuddling. Rodney remembered it too and felt his cheeks flush as his body reacted to the memory of the heavy arm curled over him. Climbing to his feet, Rodney brushed at the dust on his knees before squaring his shoulders and sticking out his chin, defying O'Neill to say another word of the topic.

The sudden shaking of the ground beneath his feet had him staring up towards the ceiling in panic as loose dust and grit billowed around him. He stared back at O'Neill.

"Earthquake?"

"No. That's no earthquake." O'Neill tapped his headset. "Sheppard, what's going on out there?"

A single word came in reply. "Wraith."

Rodney took in a shocked breath. This planet had already been culled into extinction so last night's talk of the Wraith had been more out of habit than a genuine fear for his life. They had no reason to come here, no indigenous population to feed upon, just miles of ancient ruins where a proud city must have stood millennia ago.

The chamber shook again, belching dust through the doorway from the outer chamber but, this time, Rodney could not mistake the impact of an energy weapon for an earth tremor. O'Neill shoved him back towards the almost mended console as stunner blasts blended with the high pitched whine of darts flying overhead.

"Get the cloak back up!"

From the corner of his eye, Rodney saw O'Neill take a defensive stance, P90 trained towards the sole entrance and realized it was their only hope of avoiding capture--and draining. He turned all his attention to the console, re-configuring fibers that he had only severed and re-routed minutes before, heart hammering in his chest as the sound of the stun weapon blasts drew ever closer to their hideout. He swore when the unit discharged, giving him a nasty jolt, his normally agile fingers suddenly becoming thick and unwieldy.

"Got it!" He called in triumph as the last connection lit up the main control panel. Rodney depressed the right sequence of keys just as another explosion hit the ground above their heads.

"Get down!"

O'Neill dived at Rodney, shoving him to the floor and covering him with his own body as debris rained down upon them, the thunder of the rock fall deafening to his ears as he fell partially into the small work space beneath the console. O'Neill's choked off cry of agony followed Rodney into the darkness as Rodney's head struck the inside edge of the console.

**--**

"Sheppard, what's going on out there?"

John found time to tap his headset and utter a single word, "Wraith," before diving behind the cover of a wall, crouching down as another stunner blast struck the top, the shock wave sending loosened stone raining down on him. Ronon had Jackson covered, shoving the scientist before him as they half-crouched, half-ran towards the cloaked Puddlejumper.

Looking back at the dilapidated building housing the chambers, John faltered. Rodney was still in there along with General O'Neill, and the thought of leaving them behind was not an option he would normally consider but they were trapped in there. They had no place to hide and no place to run...unless O'Neill had the sense to order Rodney to get the cloak back up to conceal the inner chamber. Even so, the Wraith would have already seen their life signs, registered the heat of two living bodies that could be drained for food. The Wraith knew all about Ancient cloaks and shields so it would not take them long to figure that out unless John managed to distract them, to let them believe that their blasts had brought down the chamber and snuffed out the life inside, and then to lure them away with the promise of more attainable food.

Taking a circuitous route that had Teyla almost yelling in his ear in fear for him, he clambered over the ruins that covered the hidden chambers; drawing Wraith blasts that made the ground tremble beneath his feet. Checking his life signs detector, he saw the two white dots that represented his best friend and his superior officer wink out, and he could only pray that Rodney had raised the cloak for the alternative was not worth considering, that his actions had brought the roof down upon his friend.

The staccato of P90 gunfire merged with further stunner blasts as Teyla covered John's retreat. A Wraith dart strafed the ruins but he dived aside, feeling the tingle of the culling beam as it passed too close for comfort. Staggering back to his feet, he ran hard, adrenaline numbing the pain of scraped and bruised legs and arms. Ahead was the Puddlejumper, with Ronon and Jackson standing visible just outside the cloak, clearing a path for John and Teyla as the Wraith caught in the crossfire performed a macabre dance within the hail of bullets. He raced straight past Ronon and into the cockpit, dropping into the seat and commanding the engines on and the rear hatch to close. Ahead, the Stargate shimmered, locked into an incoming wormhole to prevent their easy escape.

"Where's Jack...and Rodney?" Jackson's tone demanded an answer but what could John say, other than the truth. He gritted his teeth.

"Either dead or cloaked inside the chamber. Personally, I'm hoping for the latter." John dropped the cloak as the Puddlejumper rose into the air swiftly, taking a steep angle. "And I plan on keeping them that way...for now."

The Puddlejumper rocked as a blast from a Wraith dart struck the shields. "Hold on, everyone. It's gonna be a rough ride."

Another blast rocked the ship as John raced towards the expanse of blue on the horizon, heading out across a vast ocean. Steam rose from the waves as Wraith beams missed the Puddlejumper, impacting with the water streaking past barely twenty feet below them. All three Darts were on his tail, drawn away from the ruins by the sight of easier prey, and with a quick thought, John launched a drone, focusing on the lead Dart. It erupted into a fiery ball, pieces raining down onto the water.

"Hold on!" John yelled and dived for the ocean, timing it to the impact of another Wraith blast against the Puddlejumper, silently praying the shield would hold as he dropped into the waves in what he hoped looked like an uncontrolled crash. The Puddlejumper sank instantly, gaining depth swiftly and John made several course corrections before cutting the engines.

Memories of old war films filled his head, of submarine crews frozen in silence as the enemy passed above their head. Muffled explosions pressed against the Puddlejumper, one coming almost on top of them. Now it was a waiting game, the tension doubling as John checked the sensors, picking up two Darts circling above. Focusing on the Puddlejumper, he used tiny jets to angle it into a deeper dive, relying on the reconfigured shield, a legacy from Rodney's brush with death beneath the ocean, to keep the pressure of the water from destroying the ship. He closed down everything except the shield, letting the Puddlejumper slowly drift out of the area, smiling when the Darts continued to pass over the crash site. He knew from experience that the shield could only withstand this level of pressure for half an hour at the most, and glanced at his wristwatch. Only fourteen minutes had passed since the Darts came through the Stargate, activating an incoming wormhole immediately afterwards. Given Rodney's proven claim of 38 minutes before the wormhole would disengage automatically, he hoped that the Wraith would give up when that time came.

No one spoke, afraid the sound might carry to the surface. John checked over his shoulder, eyes passing over each of them, taking in the cuts and bruises from their own mad flights to the Puddlejumper. Now the effects of the initial adrenaline kick were diminishing, he was starting to feel every ache and scrape but the physical pain was nothing compared to the mental anguish of knowing Rodney was still out there. John's only consolation was that Jack O'Neill was no paper-pushing bureaucrat, instead, coming up through the ranks as a seasoned officer of dozens of skirmishes on a hundred different worlds. If John had to leave Rodney in anyone's hands, then he could do no better than O'Neill, present company of Teyla and Ronon excepted.

The current pulled at the Puddlejumper, drawing it further away from the crash site with each passing minute. The silence hung heavy within and John watched Jackson grit his teeth as Teyla cleaned and bandaged a particularly nasty scrape on his arm. Her eyes held an apology for the pain she was causing but Jackson understood the necessity.

A tug in his mind drew John's attention back to the HUD and he sighed as the Darts gave up the search, heading back towards the mainland and the Stargate. He watched as the Darts blinked out and the Stargate shut down, hoping they had bought the demise of their intended food source.

"Okay. Let's head back to the ruins."

The engines came on immediately, the Puddlejumper gliding back to the surface and smoothly making the transition from water to air. Jackson came forward and voiced the thought that had been uppermost in John's mind since the attack started.

"I thought this world was deserted. Why would they come here?"

"Perhaps they were just checking it out. In case the population of another world had tried to find refuge here." Teyla's lips curled on one side only. "It has been known to happen before."

"Yeah," Ronon growled.

"Which is the reason why the Wraith open an incoming wormhole, to prevent the people escaping through the Stargate." John recalled the Wraith employing that tactic on Orin's planet, forcing him and Teyla to land and bear witness to the most terrible sight either could imagine. They had saved but a handful of people that day, hearing the screams as others were taken to their deaths aboard the vast hive ships filled with hungry Wraith.

John brought the Puddlejumper back down some distance away from the previous landing site but still close enough to the hidden chambers. No life signs were visible and John had to hope that this was good news rather than bad. John picked his way across the rubble with Ronon, Teyla and Jackson behind him, all of them on their guard. He stopped just outside, gingerly sounding out the structure before peering inside the first chamber. It looked bad, with little remaining of the scripted walls, the panels lying smashed on the floor revealing the intricate brickwork behind them. Whatever secrets those scripts had held were lost now unless Jackson had made clearer copies. The dust still floated in the air, settling too slowly.

"This doesn't look particularly safe." He turned to Jackson, knowing Teyla and Ronon would remain on guard. "Wait here, just in case."

Holding a handkerchief over his nose and mouth, he picked his way across the debris very carefully towards the back where the second chamber had remained hidden until Rodney forced it to reveal its presence. Part of him felt relieved to see the cloak in place but he knew he would not relax until he had seen Rodney and O'Neill. He tried his radio first before resorting to shouting.

"McKay?! General O'Neill?!"

No answer came from within but John could not be certain if they would be able to hear him while the cloak was up anyway, or if he would hear their response. Resisting the urge to cough, John glanced across to the control panel that Rodney had worked on in this chamber before discovering the other room, but it had taken the brunt of the damage. The roof had partially collapsed, crushing half the console while the rest had cracked open like an egg, with innards spilling out across the debris-laden floor. John doubted it could be repaired, not even by Rodney, and that might mean that the only way out relied upon Rodney lowering the cloak from within the chamber.

"Damn it."

**--**

"Rodney?" Jack coughed as he breathed in more dust.

Supporting his weight on one forearm, he turned Rodney's chin so he could look into his face more clearly in the blue light emanating from inside the still-working console; he brushed away a streak of sweat-congealed dust. He could see no obvious injuries but he could bet Rodney smacked the back of his head down hard, enough to knock him out at least. Wiggling his fingers behind Rodney's head, he felt the stickiness that could only be blood. Rodney moaned, face tightening in pain as long, dust-covered eyelashes flickered.

"Ow."

"Sleeping beauty awakens. Welcome back."

"What..?" He blinked rapidly, squinting to take in their surroundings, for what it was worth. "Where..?"

"Under the console."

"Oh. Right. That makes sense. Only structurally safe place in this chamber to hide under during an Earthquake...except it wasn't an earth tremor," his eyes widened in panic, reflecting the same liquid blue as the Stargate's puddle. Beautiful. Always so beautiful to Jack. "It was--"

"Wraith. Yeah, I know." Jack coughed again.

"Uhm...As we're not dead, or stored like a ready-meal on a hive ship, I guess they didn't find us?"

"No. Not yet."

"The cloak." Rodney sighed in relief but then frowned. "I don't want to sound ungrateful for, you know, throwing yourself on top of me to protect me from...but...Can you get off now. You're no lightweight, General." Rodney coughed from inhaling too much of the dust still floating in the air.

"Jack." He narrowed his eyes and saw Rodney's cheeks flush before he took on that defensive expression. "Look Rodney, I'm kind of trapped under some rubble."

Rodney tried to sit up a little so he could peer over Jack's shoulder, causing a fresh wave of pain radiating up from where Jack's legs were buried under part of the collapsed ceiling. He knew his leg was broken, could feel the shards grating against each other every time he moved inadvertently. Worse, he knew his not-so-great knee had taken a bad blow too. One of his reasons for accepting promotion was that he could no longer deny the aches and pains from too many years of physical strain and abuse on missions both before and since he joined the Stargate program. In particular, an old knee injury had caused him a lot of misery. Now that knee was throbbing in time with his heart beat, almost out-doing the pain from the break lower down.

Rodney stilled beneath him, face frozen in horror, eyes boring into Jack's. His dust-coated lips were trembling, breath ragged against Jack's cheek as Jack laid his head down in pain-inflicted exhaustion.

"Don't do that again," he whispered. "Least, not until I give you a go."

"Is it bad?" His face smoothed out into a self-condescending sneer. "Of course it's bad. People don't normally scream in pain over a hangnail."

"Heard you do," Jack stated with a smirk that could not hide the pain. He could feel the sweat trickling down his forehead and tried to swipe at it as it ran into his eyes.

"Here..." Jack stilled as he felt the rough sleeve of Rodney's jacket brush over his sweat-beaded forehead.

"Thanks."

"You know. I-I wanted to get you in this position ever since..." His eyes opened wide again as he realized what his ill-thought out babbling had just revealed.

Jack chuckled a little painfully. "Under the circumstances, I'm not going to deny...a little interest."

"A little?" Rodney moved beneath him.

"Okay. A lot of interest, though, maybe not so much at this moment." He sucked in a breath against the sickly way the broken bones grated against each other. Jack could hear Rodney babbling again, about Wraith and cloaks and Sheppard but the spots of darkness dancing before his eyes took up all his concentration. He could feel the bite of Rodney's fingers digging into his flesh, anchoring him to the world. Eventually he regained his control and the fear of throwing up over Rodney receded but Rodney's voice remained.

"...Sheppard to rescue us, but if we lower the cloak and the Wraith are still out there then we risk having the life sucked out of us."

"Rodney."

"And I don't know about you but I'd prefer not to have to go through that so soon after my last internment on-board a hive ship."

"Rodney." He grabbed at Rodney's flailing hand, holding it still. "You need to lower the cloak."

"I need to..? What part of I don't want to be sucked dry by the Wraith didn't you understand because I thought I was making myself very clear--"

"The roof in the other room collapsed. The Wraith are not getting in, and neither is anyone else unless you lower the cloak."

Pleading eyes met Jack's, filled with fear, their childlike terror reminding him of Charlie, the son he had lost, and the occasional nightmare that would tear Charlie from sleep to seek comfort in Jack's arms. Physically, Rodney was no child but mentally, he was a genius who knew far too much about all the ways his life could end painfully and tragically, giving him a child's black and white fear of the world around him. He didn't know how to compartmentalize the fear, how to beat it down into submission and concentrate on all the options no matter how frightening they might seem. Jack knew from the mission reports that Rodney could beat his fears given the right incentive, or given no remaining options, doing his best work when only one path remained and relying on his brains or the vagaries of a contemptuous universe to see him through. So many people in Atlantis had come to rely upon that intense focus and that incredible mind, most of them conflicted within the love/hate relationship they formed with the man. They loved him for being their savior, time and again, for putting every ounce of that intellect into saving their lives and yet they hated him too, for being the one who voiced what they all knew in their hearts, of how fragile their existence was in this universe, reminding them constantly of their shortcomings, and of their mortality.

Jack didn't see it that way though. He was sick of the half-truths and false smiles handed out in public forums, sick of the betrayals and back stabbing that went on behind the curtains, out of the public eye. He was sick of pandering to self-bloated egos of politicians who had come to believe all the propaganda about themselves, people who had no right to gloat and preen. At least Rodney was honest in his assessment of himself. He was a self-proclaimed genius but that proclamation was recognized among his peers, perhaps begrudgingly, but recognized all the same. Rodney's honesty was refreshing, his lack of tact a source of relief to Jack because he knew where he stood with Rodney McKay. He knew what he wanted and he knew Rodney wanted him in return, but they had no future in this room, half buried beneath the ruins of a long-dead civilization. And Jack wanted a future with Rodney.

"We have to lower the cloak."

Acceptance replaced the fear, just as Jack knew it would.

"I...don't know if I can reach the...Wait. I might be able to...Yes." Rodney twisted slightly, jarring Jack's leg and causing another intense stab of pain that traveled along the ragged edges of bone and through the damaged knee, throbbing mercilessly. Bile rose in this throat but he forced it down, determined not to lose his stomach contents in such an enclosed space.

"There...it's done. I think."

Jack reached up with his free hand and stroked the dirt-streaked face, thumb rubbing gently against the stubbled flesh of jaw before sweeping up to caress the high cheekbones. He leaned in, willing Rodney to stay still by the pressure of his fingers upon the strangely handsome face, letting their lips meet in a chaste kiss. Rodney tasted of dust and sweat, of fear and yearning, and Jack knew he wanted more, wanted all that Rodney would give, all that he could give in the hope that, one day, Rodney would give him everything. Lips trembled beneath his, the tip of a tongue swiping tentatively across his lips, nerve endings tingling, burning with a desire that turned pain to pleasure, his body reacting to the closeness of Rodney's body, his cock stirring against the solid thigh plastered against him.

"Rodney? General?"

They pulled apart with shock.

"Sheppard?" Rodney whispered, as if not wanting to state his name out loud in case he was under some panic-induced delusion.

"Colonel!"

"Ronon!" Sheppard called out.

Jack hissed again, gritting his teeth as he felt the rocks above him start to shift, gaining only temporary respite from the load lifted from his leg before every muscle began to cry out in agony. He clenched his teeth harder, feeling the trickle of blood as he bit into his lips. He could hear Rodney desperately trying to offer reassurance, alternating with demands for their rescuers to be more careful.

"Sorry, General. No time for taking it slow and easy. The Wraith could be back any time."

Jack could not prevent a cry tearing from him as Ronon pulled him upright, throwing him over one massive shoulder and making for the doorway without any further delay. Jack lifted his head in time to see Sheppard drag Rodney to his feet, slinging one arm over his shoulder as they both staggered towards the door.

"Wait! Wait!"

Jack cursed as Ronon kept on going, with his last sight of Rodney, seeing him struggling against Sheppard.

**--**

"Wait! Wait! Wait!"

"We don't have time for this, Rodney!"

John stared up at the roof as more dust shook loose from a tremor he could not feel beneath his feet. This place was a death trap and he didn't plan to get caught, and he didn't plan on this place becoming Rodney's tomb either. He pulled harder on Rodney's arm, trying to drag him away but Rodney dug his heels in, using his greater weight to stop John.

"There!" He pointed towards a broken panel, and John's mouth dropped, his grip on Rodney loosening.

Rodney staggered towards the panel but John grabbed for him again. "Go! I'll get it."

He saw momentary indecision as Rodney was caught between the two temptations but, fortunately, self-preservation won and just a small shove sent him heading for the outside while John clambered across debris that shifted precariously beneath him. He reached in and grabbed the object that had caught Rodney's eye, shoving it inside his jacket and zipping it up tight as he made his way back across the chamber. An ominous tremor ran through the ground, almost knocking John off his feet and he held onto the wall for balance, making his way around the edge towards the open doorway. A crack sounded overhead and John threw up his arms to protect his head as stones shook loose, raining down on him.

**--**

"Colonel!"

A plume of dust billowed out from the inner chamber and Rodney staggered back to the entrance, shirt pulled up from the hem to cover his mouth and nose as he tried to see back inside. Something moved, a hand shooting out to grab his arm, and then Sheppard was stumbling out, stopping once he had cleared the chamber only to bend over, hands on knees, coughing hoarsely. Rodney left a hand on Sheppard's back as the racking cough shook his lean frame.

Eventually, the coughing subsided, leaving Sheppard breathing heavily to force air into his lungs. He looked up, staring at Rodney with a blank expression, and then a smile lifted the corners of his mouth as he reached inside his jacket and pulled out...the ZPM.

Rodney gasped, hands trembling as he reached for the object they had been searching for on this world. He held it reverently, staring back at Sheppard when he felt Sheppard's grip tighten on his forearm.

"What say we get out of here before the Wraith come back?"

Rodney laughed breathlessly. "What say we?"

He held on tight to his prize possession as they skirted the worst of the debris in the outer chamber, breathing a sigh of relief when he reached the cleaner air outside. Teyla was waiting for them, eyes alert and senses honed, looking for anomalies in the surrounding ruins in case the Wraith should still be lurking, waiting to attack them at their most vulnerable.

"Hurry. We do not know what brought the Wraith to us last time. We may not have long before they return."

Rodney swallowed hard, seeing the sense in getting off this world and back to the relative safety of Atlantis, especially now they had located the ZPM. He moved swiftly through the ruins, trying to keep pace with Teyla and almost running into her when she stopped abruptly.

"They are here!"

Rodney tried to look in every direction at once, only to freeze when he saw a familiar ghostly shadow glide over the ruins, his eyes following it until he caught sight of the broken portico that had intrigued him last evening. Memory resurfaced, the pale luminescence that strengthened as he approached. O'Neill...No, Jack, had pulled him away as he knelt down to investigate, trying to pull away the lichen and moss that had overgrown it, his fingers scraping over its metallic surface.

"Oh no." His eyes darted to Sheppard. At the time of his discovery, he thought it might be some Ancient device that had survived the elements of long millennia, reacting to his ATA gene, but now he had the terrible suspicion that it was a trap set by the Wraith, like Teyla's necklace. Sheppard pushed him onwards. Inadvertently, he must have summoned them to this world just as Teyla's necklace had tagged them on other worlds until they discovered its purpose. He wondered where the relay device was situated but it could be anyplace, or maybe the relay was incorporated into the design. Rodney wondered how long it had been there for the moss surrounding it had given no clue. Parrish would know how long it took for the lichen and moss to grow around it though he recalled old handyman tricks for aging old brick, of painting a wall with milk to encourage the growth. For all he knew, that device could have been there for as long as ten thousand years, or for as little as a week.

"Get going, McKay," he whispered harshly, P90 raised in readiness, though neither he nor Teyla took a shot, knowing it would only draw the Wraith to their position more easily.

An arm shot out of thin air and he yelped, the sound muffled by the large hand that pressed over his mouth as Ronon pulled him inside the Puddlejumper. John was right behind him but he pushed past, racing towards the cockpit even as the rear hatch closed and the engines fired up. Stunner blasts glowed brightly against the front shield, ineffective, as a dozen Wraith soldiers came charging from the ruins to converge on the Puddlejumper.

Rodney followed Sheppard to the cockpit, both horrified and amazed to see Jack in the pilot's seat, with his mangled leg propped awkwardly and his grey complexion and dirt-streaked face covered in a sheen of clammy sweat. Yet his hands were steady on the controls, eyes focused hard in concentration, reminding Rodney that though Jack's command of the ATA gene was every bit as strong as Sheppard's, the man was fighting the pain of his injuries.

"Dial the gate," Jack ordered, and Sheppard began to punch in the glyphs for Atlantis. Rodney only let out the breath he was holding when the last chevron locked. Sheppard sent the IDC and Atlantis confirmed it swiftly when Sheppard warned Elizabeth that they would be coming in hot. Jack skimmed the top of the ruins, using the jagged edges of a long dead city to provide the cover they needed to escape. He rolled the Puddlejumper around one tight corner as more blasts rocked the Puddlejumper, and then they were through, diving into the shimmering blue pool of the wormhole, and coming to an abrupt halt within the gate room, the shield flaring into life behind them. Automatic systems took control and the Puddlejumper rose up into the jumper bay.

Rodney dropped into the seat behind Jack, closing his eyes as the last of the adrenaline left his body, leaving him feeling dizzy and weak. His head began to throb and his body began to ache from the numerous bruises and cuts from falling stone and jagged rock. At some point he had torn his pants, skinning his knee in the process but, for once, the sight of Jack's leg put thoughts of his own lesser injuries to shame. He could hear Sheppard ordering a medical team to the jumper bay and yet he was still surprised when Carson appeared beside him only moments later, with the Scottish brogue giving away his identity long before Rodney found the strength to open his eyes. Carson settled down by Jack.

"Hope you brought the good stuff with you, Doc."

"Aye. That I have, General...but I need to check over your injuries before I give you anything."

Rodney felt a hand on his arm and looked up into Sheppard's face. "Let's go show Elizabeth what we found, and then get you to the infirmary."

**--**

Jack sucked in a deep breath as Beckett checked his knee and leg using the Ancient scanner. He half-listened as Beckett talked of fractures and torn ligaments with another of the Atlantis medical doctors. He frowned when he realized Beckett had turned and was now talking to him, except he felt too groggy to take in the words. True to his word, Beckett had given him something for the pain once he had made his preliminary check on Jack's injuries.

"Well, I'd say you were bloody lucky though I don't suppose you'd see it that way, General. The fracture to the fibula is clean. No artery or nerve damage. We'll do a reduction to set the bone and then use an light cast to immobilize your lower leg." His expression became apologetic. "The knee is another matter entirely. Previous injuries have severely weakened the joint..."

Jack tuned out the rest, having heard it all before and being too tired to go through it all again at this moment. He felt a little guilty when Beckett paused mid-flow, knowing he had lost his audience. Beckett patted his good leg.

"Dr. Salas is one of Earth's best orthopedic specialists and we're lucky to have him here on Atlantis. I'll leave you in his more than capable hands while I go tend to Dr. McKay."

Beckett's words shocked Jack out his his growing stupor. He had not considered the possibility of Rodney's injuries being life-threatening, though Rodney had been unconscious for at least ten minutes, maybe more. "McKay? Is he..?"

Beckett blinked in surprise. "Oh! No, I'm sure he's fine. A wee knock to the head, some scrapes and bruises, though I'm sure he believes it's much worse. I'm keeping him in overnight just to be on the safe side."

The hammering in his chest began to fade back to normal and Jack relaxed once more, letting the drugs draw him back into numbness of mind and body. Rodney was fine. That incredible brain and body were just fine. He sighed softly as the memory of those sweet lips and that gentle kiss swept through him, stripping away the final layers of pain and leaving him floating in a perfect world where Rodney McKay's blue eyes sparkled like the pool of a shimmering Stargate, his shy smile sending delicious thoughts racing through Jack's head but stirring nothing else, his body no longer responsive. His eyes drifted shut and even thoughts of Rodney floated from his mind as he succumbed to drugged darkness.

When he woke up, he discovered that he had lost a full day. His leg was elevated with a light support cast around the knee that extended down his leg, holding everything secure but left his knee flexible. Jack knew that if it had been just the fibula then he might have gotten away with ice packs and a promise to keep off his feet for a week. Except, Beckett seemed clued in to Jack's inability to follow medical orders, judging by the lightweight cast. No doubt there would be a pair of crutches in his near future too. Still, Jack knew it could have been a lot worse.

He spent the first day in the infirmary dealing with more well-wishers than he could possibly cope with. Some were genuine in their attention, like Daniel, Elizabeth and Sheppard while others were simply trying to take advantage of his immobility to further their own projects or careers. Jack put up with it all as best he could, grateful when Beckett curtailed any visitors who could not take no or go away for an answer. By the end of the day, Jack had but one disappointment. The only person he had hoped to see was conspicuous by his absence. Beckett had wanted to keep Rodney in the infirmary overnight, and Jack had planned to use that time to talk to him about their budding relationship not anticipating spending the whole time drugged into unconsciousness. He had not even been aware of Rodney being discharged earlier that day and it grated on Jack that he could not simply get up and go find Rodney.

Jack closed his eyes and silently wished he knew where Rodney was hiding. A distinct image formed behind his eyelids, of Rodney in the control room working on one of the Ancient consoles, his agile fingers flowing over the crystal keys like a pianist playing a concerto. He could see his face clearly, the dark circles under dulled blue eyes, the odd tilt of his mouth, neither happy nor sad, simply focused and, perhaps, a little frustrated. A frown line formed between his eyes, wrinkling his forehead as he lifted his head to glance around him. His lips parted, forming a soft 'O' of bewilderment.

"General?"

Jack's eyes flew open.

**--**

Carson had not wanted to release him from the infirmary that morning despite the fact that he had exhibited no worrisome signs during the night, following his head injury. Still, Rodney had to admit that he felt tired, with his body bruised and aching from the battery of falling stones and his stumbles as he ran from the Wraith but he had good reason for wanting to be released. The ZPm. Installing it next to the one brought from Earth on the Daedalus, had been easy and, for the first time since stepping through to Atlantis, Rodney could breathe a sigh of relief, knowing they had enough power to gate everyone back to Earth should the Wraith attack again in force. Now they had power to spare for even the most trivial of the Ancient systems and Rodney had spend the whole day watching new systems come online, one by one. Each one had to be monitored carefully because ten thousand years, failing shields, a massive storm and a Wraith attack on the unprotected city must have taken its toll somewhere.

"Rodney. You should rest. You are tired."

"What?" Rodney frowned at Radek.

"I said you should rest."

"I'm fine." He squeezed his eyes shut to ease the blurriness that had worsened over the past hour.

"No. You are not fine. You are tired. And tired people make mistakes."

Rodney turned back to the control console, angrily, determined to ignore Radek. His fingers danced over the crystals, mind focusing on the tingling sensations that had guided him since taking the gene therapy, feeling frustrated by his human failings but not wanting to admit to them. Perhaps if the gene therapy had taken with Radek, or if Peter was still alive, then he could have taken a step back and allowed them to initialize and activate some of the new pathways. However, Radek did not have the ATA gene and Peter was dead, and Rodney trusted no one else with the safety of his city.

His city.

Yet he felt so at odds with the city these days, knowing something important was missing from his life. He could sense that something tickling at the back of his mind, like an itch he could not scratch, growing stronger with each passing day until he could no longer ignore it. That same itch had overshadowed his joy of studying the Stargate at Area 51, and the pleasure of designing better Naquadah generators in Russia, even if the hospitality was not so great there. Following his return from exile in Russia, that sense of being incomplete had forced him to move onto what seemed like a bigger and brighter future in Antarctica and finally brought him to Atlantis. Atlantis should have been the culmination of all his dreams, working with technology that was light years ahead of their own, pitting his superior intellect and skills against that of the Ancients as he fought to do what they could not, to find a way to defeat the Wraith. There was enough in this city alone to keep him occupied for the rest of his life even without the threat of being culled, except there was that small part of him that still wanted more.

He wanted a life too. He wanted someone to share all of this with. Someone to come home to each night. Someone who understood the pressures and constraints of time, and who would not resent his dedication to his work, perhaps even share in it.

He snorted softly as he had never wanted to share anything before, wanting to take the praise for everything.

The Samantha Carter in his imagination had called him petty and arrogant. Trust was an issue too, especially following the Arcturus incident, when he had not truly believed anyone would come for him in the downed Puddlejumper even if they had the necessary skill. He was wrong then, but he'd often been wrong when dealing with the people equation. Too many variables made the outcome impossible to predict and he, honestly, believed that the big black mark of Arcturus and the way he had treated Sheppard and Radek, had canceled out all the positive variables of friendship; his relationship with both men had been strained at that time.

Consciously recognizing the truth was the first step in fixing those particular character flaws but changing the habits of a lifetime was so much harder than he could ever have imagined. He was trying to be a little less petty, a little less arrogant, more trusting even, but the doubts still made him falter...and now he had another reason to panic.

In the past few weeks, that yearning for something more had grown stronger and Rodney was shocked to find all of it aimed towards one man: Jack O'Neill.

Back in the SGC, Jack had been one of the few to not openly condemn him after Teal'c became caught in the Stargate buffer even though Teal'c was his friend. He might not have liked hearing the truth as Rodney saw it but he could appreciate the candor where Sam was willing to gloss over the possibility of the Stargate overloading and destroying the whole of Cheyenne Mountain. In the end, though, they were willing to take the risk to save a friend's life whereas to Rodney, Teal'c was just one more faceless person among many. As it was, the Russian DHD was destroyed in the process and Rodney suffered the backlash from that once he reached Russia, even though he was not an American. Many of the Russian scientists believed that the destruction of the DHD was a deliberate act of sabotage, meant to break the Russian's stranglehold over the US Stargate program. According to the Russian's, it was only a matter of time before they got their own Stargate program into operation, and with the DHD overriding the SGC dialing computer, drawing all wormholes dialed into Earth when the DHD was activated, it would have given them the planet's primary Stargate. Although he was never in fear of his life, he had never been more lonely in his life.

In some ways, he owed Anubis a debt of gratitude, for his attempt to destroy the Earth by overloading the Stargate had brought Rodney out of exile and back to the SGC where he met Jack O'Neill for the second time. Unfortunately, his head had been too full of Samantha Carter to pay much attention to Jack. Even the little alien guy, Jonas, had held more intrigue and interest until Rodney had to write a subroutine to override the X-302's safety protocols. For the first time, the person looking death straight in the eye was not some faceless grunt. He was someone Rodney knew. Someone whose voice, features and mannerisms had imprinted upon his memory even if he couldn't recall the man's rank or even his surname. The people around Rodney had cared if this man lived or died and, amazingly, so did Rodney after such a short acquaintance. He cared that this man would die if they could not open the hyperspace window, for Jack could not hope to outrun the blast of the Stargate even allowing time for it to sink two to three thousand feet beneath the Atlantic. Rodney knew that his calculations, which matched those of Jonas Quinn, would give the pilot just a fraction more time to eject before the X-302 was pulled into the hyperspace window but it would still be a close call.

He did not see Jack again until he was personally selected as lead scientist in Antarctica, except Jack was beyond human help then, his body frozen in a stasis pod within the walls of the Ancient outpost. Sometimes, when he needed to think, Rodney would pull up a chair and sit beside the frozen figure, wondering if Jack could hear the outside world, like a coma victim. He talked about anything from inconsequential moments in his day and Canadian hockey, to the latest discoveries found in the outpost, with his memory supplying the voice, mannerisms and the expressive features as he imagined Jack's response. At the time, the scientific presence on Antarctica was small, consisting of only a handful of scientists brought in by the coalition of those governments with knowledge of the Stargate while the ownership of the outpost was being debated, so no one questioned or ridiculed his private talks with Jack. Not that Rodney would have cared what they thought anyway.

He could still recall the shock of seeing Jack taken by the Asgard transporter beam, leaving an empty stasis pod behind.

Control of the Ancient outpost was settled soon after with all the nations agreeing that it should be a civilian, international force rather than being under the sole control of the US military. That worked in Rodney's favor as Elizabeth Weir was more than happy to keep a non-US, non-military scientist as head of science in Antarctica.

The next time he saw Jack was months later, with the now Brigadier General flying in on a helicopter piloted by a crazy-haired Major, whose command of the ATA gene rivaled Jack's.

Rodney selected a few more keys on the control console as another system came online, trying to focus on the interface between him and Atlantis but, instead, his memory slipped back to that meeting and the initial shock of seeing an animated Jack O'Neill. His voice was exactly as Rodney recalled from the Anubis incident, his mannerisms--the twitch of lips and the flick of a hand--so familiar. Even the expressions on his face tightened the band across Rodney's chest and it had been hard not to treat Jack like a friend rather than a near-stranger.

As Rodney selected a few more commands, he felt a shiver race through him, as if he was being watched by a familiar presence. Raising his eyes, he tracked his gaze around the control room but, although the presence remained, he saw no sign of...

"General?"

"Rodney?"

Blinking rapidly, Rodney snapped out of the light trance. Perhaps Radek was right. Perhaps he was too tired to concentrate any more tonight. He turned to find Radek standing a few feet away, arms crossed in front of his chest, posture rigid but as Radek opened his mouth to say something more, Rodney stepped in first.

"It's late and we've been at this all day. Let's pack up and start afresh in the morning, hmm?"

Radek made two more abortive attempts to say something, mouth opening and shutting like a fish before resorting to a mumble of Czech that Rodney had a strong feeling was not very complimentary.

"Problem?"

"No. No problem other than irritating..." He paused and sighed. "No. Go. Go to your bed, Rodney."

Rodney shook his head and walked away, making straight for the transporter. His hand hovered over the destination closest to his quarters while his eyes focused on the one closest to the infirmary.

"Mistake. Big, big mistake," he muttered, but gave in to the desire to see Jack if only by taking a quick sneaky peek at him through the infirmary door. He had sensed the man's presence earlier and now he simply needed to confirm the reality.

**--**

Carson wasn't pottering. He had too much work to do both in the infirmary and in his research lab to waste time hovering over patients. At least, that is what he tried to convince himself but, in truth, the latest round of injuries followed by a detailed explanation for why they were injured in the first place, had screwed with his head, leaving him unable to focus.

When Elizabeth dragged him out of relative obscurity, following his discovery of a rare gene in his DNA that was not present in most everyone else he used as a test subject outside of his own family--and even some of those did not possess this gene--he had not anticipated ended up a galaxy away from home. Worse, he had not expected to find himself the main course on a space vampire's menu, or to have to defend his new home from those same vampires and others besides. Thoughts of the Genii attack still made him shiver.

Also he had not expected to have to stand by and watch people he knew and cared about die. He thought he had left all that behind him when he decided to branch into medical research after his internship in Glasgow's busiest A&E.

Standing by helpless while someone died was bad enough when it was some wee slip of a lass that he'd known for but a few days on Hoff, or some baby-faced marine fresh off the Daedalus who died looking like an old man, drained of his life's energy. No, far worse was seeing those he had come to think of as family hurt or injured by the Wraith or by some other god awful thing thrown at them in this messed-up galaxy. Not that the Milky Way was any better off from the tales he had heard.

Still, he had degrees of inner pain when it came to his patients. Small children and family topped the pain scales.

General O'Neill was not exactly family, but Carson liked the man and he knew O'Neill needed but a small push to become part of Carson's Atlantis family. Extended family, perhaps, Carson thought, thinking of the second cousins he rarely saw back home except for Hogmanay. Truth be told though, his greater concern this time had been for Rodney. Oh, he was professional enough to triage the injured and ensure the worst injuries were dealt with first but he hated leaving Rodney in someone else's hands, no matter how capable they might be. More often than not, Rodney's injuries were relatively minor. Scrapes and cuts, the occasional splinter or hangnail, or a minor electrical burn from some of the dangerous equipment the man had to maintain. Carson would spend those times surreptitiously coddling Rodney while visibly calling him a wee baby for making such a fuss.

Then there were the bad times when he thought he would lose his friend, racing to Kate's office to find Rodney convulsing on the floor after an internal battle with the hitchhiker in his head. He had barely known Laura at the time but had loved her from the moment she offered to give her life to save Rodney's. Perhaps it was the wrong reason for loving her but Carson could not help the tangle of his emotions.

More recently, he recalled sitting through the night, almost helpless as Rodney fought against the enzyme breaking down in his bloodstream. Fear and paranoia had twisted Rodney's thoughts and though it was easy to brush off the bitter words, it was harder to shake off his own fear of losing his friend. Twice, his team had to resuscitate Rodney when the monitor flatlined. Twice, he barely managed to pull Rodney back from the brink of death. Yet, if he thought it was bad enough having to sit and wait while Rodney sweated out the addictive enzyme, far worse was sitting with Elizabeth and Radek through the endless hours while the Daedalus limped home minus Carson's loved ones, his family of Rodney, John and Ronon, lost to the Wraith.

They had found their way home eventually, with Rodney and Ronon none the worse for their enforced rest inside a Wraith storage compartment, waiting to be fed upon. Yet, Carson still blamed himself for putting his friends in that terrible position. He should have found a way to monitor the experiment on Michael off-world so the Wraith-turned-human could not take knowledge of Atlantis's continued existence back to his Hive Queen.

So many times, Carson considered tending his resignation and asking for that berth on-board the Daedalus, heading back to Earth, but each time he looked at his newfound family and knew he could not leave them here alone. He needed them as much as they needed him.

Carson straightened up the pillows on the bed next to O'Neill's having already fussed over the General, reading his chart and checking his leg. He had spent much of the day ordering the less desirable visitors from O'Neill's bedside, those who had wanted to take advantage of his incapacity to pitch their ideas whether O'Neill wanted to hear them or not. Worse, some of them simply wanted to complain, mostly about Rodney and his unique leadership style, though Elizabeth and John had gained a few malcontents too. O'Neill had grimaced and scrawled in his notebook, thanking the petitioner for bringing it to his attention and offering tight smiles and waves as the triumphant complainer walked away. Yet, when Carson had taken a peek at the notepad, after he forced O'Neill to take a short nap, he was pleased to see the list of names for transfer off Atlantis consisted of those malcontents and nothing more.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Carson glanced towards the door, hiding a smile at Rodney's startled look at being spotted. It took but a moment to realize that Rodney had been checking up on O'Neill and the devil in him made Carson call out as Rodney started to duck away.

"Rodney! What can I do for you? Does your head still hurt?"

The panicked expression brought the smile to Carson's lips though he raised his eyebrows in a fair imitation of innocence as Rodney grimaced before stepping into the infirmary.

"Errhm. Yes. A headache...and my vision's all..." he flapped a hand around, "blurry."

"I know exactly what you need."

Rodney looked both surprised and suspicious at the same time. "You do? Hmm!" He waited with wide-eyed innocence marred only by the small amount of skepticism that tugged one side of his mouth down a little.

Carson finished fluffing up the pillow on the bed next to O'Neill and then patted the covers. He had to swallow a snigger at Rodney's confusion knowing all would come clear on his next words.

"I'll bring you as pair of scrubs to change into."

"What? I have a perfectly good bed--"

"You'll thank me in the morning when you're well rested." Carson offered a bright smile before turning away from a spluttering Rodney, his grin widening when he heard Rodney turn on O'Neill.

"What are you grinning at?"

**--**

"Rodney?" Jack whispered across the small space separating the two beds. He heard a soft snuffle that made Jack smile as he watched Rodney's turn his head in his direction, catching the sleepy eyes opening, long lashes batting in unconscious seduction. Rodney shot to sudden wakefulness, covers cast aside as he hopped down from his bed.

"What's wrong? Do you need Carson?"

"No. No, I..." Seeing the dark circles beneath the frightened blue eyes filled Jack with regret for waking him. He let his eyes drop to the strong arms, with blunt but oh-so-capable fingers bunching up Jack's light cover tightly, leaving the knuckles bloodless. Bruises peppered those arms; some large and ugly while others were tiny circles from smaller debris. Several long scratches had been treated but left uncovered to heal, the sum total of his injuries almost hiding one nasty scar that Jack knew was a souvenir from the Genii.

"I'm sorry--"

Rodney's face seemed to crumple for a moment before his expression blanked and he began to withdraw. "Yes. I understand. Heat of the moment and...all that."

"I'm sorry for waking you...not for kissing you."

"Oh. Well, I'll just climb back in here and..."

Jack reached out and snagged one arm before Rodney could pull away, dragging him closer until their lips brushed softly. Gentle nips and licks followed, the slightest pressure tingling nerve endings and sending a pulse of desire through him. He moaned into the kiss, feeling the vibration reflecting back upon his own lips. The wet swipe of a tongue answered his moan, sending more delicious sensations racing through him. The kiss deepened, wet mouths opening to touch and taste, tongues dueling tentatively as they coiled and pressed against one another.

The sound of movement from just beyond the infirmary door broke them apart, and they tried hard to stifle their harsh breathing as they looked at each other in both fear and wonder. As Jack stared at the desire-darkened eyes, at the flushed cheeks and rosy lips swollen by their kiss, he wondered how something so right could be considered so wrong. It did not matter that the rules had been relaxed for those serving on the Atlantis Expedition, bringing them in line with their international counterparts, because Jack could not stay here. He had to return to his life on Earth, to the politics, and to the lies and infighting that dragged on his soul, sapping all his will. He had no choice, though part of him fervently wished that was not the case. He wished he could find another time machine and turn back the past few years, to before Baal and his torture, to before the first fatal mission to Langara that took Daniel from him. He wished he had told Daniel how he felt about him then, wished he had never walked through the Stargate, wished he had stayed away from the military, stayed in retirement.

Except then he never would have met Rodney.

Jack closed his eyes. He wanted Rodney so badly he could still taste him upon his lips, could smell the unique scent of the man standing so close, nostrils twitching and his lips burning to touch Rodney's again. He wanted to feel the heat of Rodney's body pressing against his once more, feel those agile fingers splayed out over his naked flesh, holding him, touching him. But he could not have Rodney; not while he remained in the US military, no matter how high his rank or how many times he had pulled Earth's collective ass from the fires of hell. He could not have him...but he wanted him.

He could read the same longing in Rodney's expressive face and reached out to grab Rodney's hand as futility and loss doused the fire in those eyes. Perhaps they had no future, but while he was on Atlantis, they did have a present.

"Daniel's springing me at 10 tomorrow. Swing by tomorrow night...later the better."

Rodney stared at him, those incredible eyes trying to navigate the unfamiliar paths of Jack's body language so he made it easier for him to understand. Jack pulled Rodney back and kissed him hard, wet and open-mouthed while his other hand buried itself in Rodney's soft, fine hair. He let him go just as quickly, licking his lips as if he had tasted the most succulent dish.

A twitch of a smile and a soft snort was Jack's only answer as the normally verbose scientist turned and clambered back into his bed but Jack knew he had got the message across. Within moments, Rodney's breathing deepened and Jack let the soft lullaby of gentle snores send him drifting off into sleep.

**--**

The hesitant knock on his door brought Jack from a light sleep. He twisted slightly so he could read the luminescent dial on his bedside clock, surprised to see that it was past midnight. His stomach fluttered in anticipation when he realized who this could be. The door opened to his mental command and, for a moment, Jack saw a familiar silhouette cast against the lights in the corridor beyond before Rodney slipped into his room. The door closed behind him.

"General?"

"Jack," he replied automatically, shifting on the bed as he ordered the lights up a fraction, enough to see the nervous man still hovering by the door. He pushed up onto his elbows and smiled at Rodney. "Thought you'd forgotten our date."

"I'm...I'm a busy man. There's a queue of incompetent scientists outside my laboratory door begging me to save their pitiful attempts at research using my vastly superior intellect. If left to their own devices we'd be living in a cave on the mainland by now, cooking Tava beans over a pitiful campfire while daubing ourselves in manure to scare off the Wraith."

"I like camping." Jack stated with false indignation, and then smirked. "Manure? Not so much."

He saw the flicker of a smile as some of the tension eased from the solid frame. Jack patted the bed and smiled at the sweet hesitation before Rodney walked over and sank down beside him. By rights, Jack felt that he ought to be the nervous one as he had one hell of a lot more to lose should anyone catch them together. Secondly, it had been a long time since he cared enough to take such a risk with his career and his heart, though he had come close with Daniel, and with risk came the fear of a painful rejection should Rodney not feel the same way for him. Lastly, because he was almost naked, with just his military-issue boxers covering his dignity, and the bed covers scattered somewhere near his feet.

Awkwardly, Jack shifted his legs to make more room, grateful that Beckett had not used a heavy cast to support the break and the wrenched knee. Rodney must have seen him flinch in pain for his eyes widened, darting from Jack's legs to his face.

"It's okay. I'm fine. Just a little sore."

"I would hardly call a wrenched knee and a broken fibula fine."

"Oh, compared to what could have happened, I think I got off rather lightly. Don't you?"

"Compared to what? What could have been worse than..?"

"The fact that we could have been buried alive with no way out, and then there was the whole Wraith sucking thing."

Rodney opened his mouth to argue then snapped it shut. "Point taken."

"Figured you'd see it my way."

"So!" Rodney put on some false bravado, rubbing his hands together but his wide smile faltered when he realized he hadn't a clue what to do next. "Is it hot in here?"

Jack knew what he wanted. He reached out and tweaked the nipple standing so prominent through the thin blue science shirt, pleased at Rodney's reaction, his soft gasp and the way his eyelashes fluttered. Jack's hand dropped to the hem and tugged at the body-hugging material.

"Take your boots and shirt off."

Rodney hesitated but a moment before unlacing off his boots and kicking them off along with his socks. He tugged off his shirt, discarding it without a second thought, the material almost fluttering to the floor beside the bed. Rodney's eyes closed as Jack reached out to stroke his soft skin, tracing a path around the curve of his ribs and up his side until his thumb could brush over the now exposed nipple. He felt it tighten further beneath his touch. A soft needy moan fell from Rodney's parted lips as Jack leaned back against his pillows, tugging Rodney down beside him for another kiss. The touch of their lips was almost tentative, littered with soft, butterfly kisses, yet Jack trembled from the sensations. He felt Rodney's fingers card through his hair, felt the rough palm of his hand slide across his ear until the back of his head was cupped in Rodney's smaller hand, all movement restricted as Rodney's lips claimed Jack's more insistently. He felt the swipe of a hot tongue, his lips parting to allow Rodney entry, his own tongue curling against the welcome invader as Rodney pushed in. Jack's hand eased between them, skimming across the wide expanse of Rodney's chest, fingers catching on the sparse, soft curls that trailed down the center, arrowing towards his groin. Jack followed the trail as far as the waistband to Rodney's pants, fingers dipping beneath to caress the soft skin of his belly. He turned his fingers to tackle the button and zipper, slowly opening both to reveal a triangle of warm flesh, and raising his eyes to Rodney's in appreciation at finding him going commando, only to moan his pleasure as that mobile mouth latched onto his throat. The sucks and licks were too gentle to leave marks but they fired his blood, sending fresh sparks of desire and need through his body.

Rodney continued his own tactile exploration of Jack, sliding down his body with open-mouthed, wet kisses, tongue slicking across bare flesh, coiling around a nipple and raising it to a peak, moving ever downwards. He rose to his hands and knees, gradually crawling down the bed by Jack's side until he reached the cotton boxers.

"Hmm? What have we here?" Rodney murmured against Jack's skin, sending the tiny vibration through his body, and then he looked up. Sparkling blue eyes, pupils enlarged with lust, caught and held Jack's, and his kiss-reddened lips quirked up into an impish grin. Jack's hands had dropped from the heated flesh. Now they fisted the bed sheet below him when Rodney lowered his head to mouth the thick head of Jack's erection through the cotton. Jack thrust up his hips, needing to increase the contact, his fingers jerking away from the bed sheets, scrabbling at the waistband of his own boxers, so desperate to free his erection. He wanted to feel the agile tongue tasting and touching him, wanted Rodney's lips and fingers wrapped around his engorged flesh.

He cried out when he got his wish, feeling Rodney's fingers curling around the base as the material was dragged aside. A hot mouth engulfed him, the scrape of teeth and the press of tongue turning Jack's world inside out as he came hard, semen pulsing into the mouth still wrapped around him.

Jack sank back against the bed, one forearm covering his eyes and his embarrassment. "Damn! I'm sorry. That was fast."

He heard a warm chuckle as Rodney shifted on the bed, wriggling as he pulled off his pants before drawing up to lie alongside Jack, propped up on one elbow with his face cradled in his hand. Jack sneaked a look from beneath his arm, find bright blue eyes filled with pleasure, and staring down at him.

"Fast but deliciously satisfying." He licked his lips. He leaned in and nuzzled Jack's arm with his nose, forcing aside so he could dive in for another kiss. Jack felt Rodney's hard erection push against his thigh, suddenly feeling a little annoyed at his selfishness. He tugged at Rodney until he could wrap his hand around the silken flesh comfortably, squeezing and stroking from base to tip just the way he liked to be touched. Rodney pressed his forehead against Jack's temple, softly murmuring words of encouragement.

"Oh yes...just like that...just like...oh yes."

Jack flicked his thumb over the head with each upward stroke, adding a firm little twist against the bundle of nerve endings near the tip, loving the slight catch in Rodney's voice. He knew Rodney was close, could feel it in the muscles spasming almost out of control, could hear it in the timbre of Rodney's voice, in the tiny whimpers that punctuated every word. A soft gasp, warm breath ghosting across Jack's neck and face, and Jack felt Rodney's cock pulse in his hand, hot semen splattering over his fingers to sear his flesh. He turned his head and captured Rodney's mouth, swallowing the last of his small cries even as he tasted the bitterness of his own release.

Beside him, Rodney's head lolled sleepily and Jack felt a little sorry for giving him a hard nudge.

"What..?" Pleasure-softened eyes blinked at Jack, a frown deepening the lines of Rodney's forehead. "Oh, you want me to l..?"

"Clean up...then sleep."

Rodney stared at him a moment longer in confusion and then gave a shy smile before clambering off the bed to fetch a clean washcloth. Once he had wiped them both, he dropped the washcloth on the bedside cabinet and dragged the bed cover up over both of them, snuggling into Jack's side.

Light streaming through the ornate windows woke Jack a few hours later, and though he hated to do it, Jack knew he had to ask Rodney to leave before the corridors became crowded with Atlanteans. No matter his personal wish that he could tell the US military to take its stupid DADT rules and go to hell, he knew he and Rodney would have to be discrete. It took several shakes before Rodney stirred. He opened bleary eyes wide in confusion until he saw Jack, and then his eyes softened and his lips curled into a warm smile...until he noticed the sunlight.

"Oh! It's nearly morning. I should go..." He hooked a thumb towards the door.

Jack watched him slide from the bed, a flush of embarrassment strangely endearing as he tried to hold onto part of the bed sheet to keep himself covered. Eventually, he realized that he had to let go to reach his pants, leaving Jack with the perfect view of his naked body. Bruising still marred his flesh, the mottled blues and greens standing out against the fair skin but Jack could see they were healing fast. Only a little spare flesh covered the surprisingly muscular frame and Jack had time to admire the broad shoulders, dappled with a few freckles, and the firm, pale ass that begged to be taken, before Rodney concealed all within his pants and shirt. He sat back down on the bed to pull on his socks and boots, looking back when Jack ran a hand across his back. Eventually, he turned completely, a little shy as he leaned in to kiss Jack goodbye.

Jack held him in the kiss, filling it with desire and lust and need, filling him with promises before letting him go.

"Tonight?"

Rodney seemed at a loss for words, eyes wide in a shock that turned to stunned delight.

"Erhm. Yes. Tonight. Tonight's good."

**--**

Rodney knew he was troubling his minions but he could not manage to lose his good mood no matter how incompetent they seemed to be. Last night he'd got laid for the first time in over three years, by some means other than his own right hand...and not just by any means either. Last night he had been with Jack and it had been everything he'd ever hoped for...apart from Jack's broken leg and wrenched knee, and his own bruises that had been a little tender to the touch, and the bruises that covered Jack's leaner frame that turned lovemaking into a game of minesweeper, trying to avoid those sore places. In fact, it wasn't really anything like he had fantasized for him and Jack and yet it had still been perfect. Just the feel of Jack beneath him, his body yearning for Rodney's touch, had been enough to send Rodney close to the edge, and then Jack had touched him, fingers wrapping around him, stroking him, bringing him over that glorious edge into a bone melting orgasm.

He grinned again, humming softly to himself as he worked on the latest unidentifiable Ancient gadget recovered from some where in the city. He heard the lab door open behind him but paid no attention until Radek greeted the new arrival.

"General O'Neill. You are looking well."

Rodney spun on his seat, quickly banking his joy at seeing his lover.

"Dr. Zelenka. Rodney."

"General! It's good to see you up on your feet. Sort of..."

Jack came towards him on the crutches with amazing speed and agility as he skirted around one of Rodney's scientists, momentarily stripping every thought from Rodney's mind as he recalled the feel of that lean yet muscular body in his arms last night. He licked his lips almost unconsciously, recalling the bittersweet taste of Jack's come spilling into his mouth, coating his tongue and lips.

"Jack," he said softly as a small admonishment towards Rodney, and after what they had shared the night before he was perfectly justified in raising an eyebrow at Rodney.

"I know. It's..." Rodney tried to describe what it was with a flicker of his hand, "...force of habit."

"Perhaps a little more practice is in order." He leaned in closer so his words would not travel to those surrounding them. "My place again tonight?"

Rodney fought the pleasure those words induced but, from Radek's smirk, he knew he had failed where one of his people were concerned. Hopefully, the rest would think Jack had said something more in lines with the military and their mock threats rather than setting up a date for more of that mind-blowing sex. Despite the open policy because of the international spirit of this expedition, most of the US military stuck with their arcane protocols and rules, concerned that anything revealed here might not be seen in the same indulgent light once they were rotated back to Earth.

Lowering his eyes back to the object in his hands, Rodney tried to hide the raw emotions of need and want that would give everything away.

"Cantuseia."

"What?" Rodney looked back up at Jack, confusion replacing the want in his eyes.

Jack reached out and touched the small panel on the side of the object and a beautiful, haunting melody filled the lab.

"Cantus! Music!" Rodney recognized the derivative that must have seeped into Latin from the Ancients. It was not the first word from an Earth-based language that seemed to have its roots in Ancient. "How did you..?"

Jack looked a little shocked for a moment, and he shrugged, putting on that dumb act that had carried him through so many situations but Rodney refused to let it drop.

"Jack?"

"I've been remembering things. Probably a hang over from my last encounter with an Ancient repository."

"Thor said the knowledge of the Ancients was gone." When Jack merely raised his eyebrows questioningly, Rodney felt like shooting him out of sheer exasperation. "What? You didn't think I'd be interested in knowing you wouldn't be the font of all Ancient knowledge? Apart from you and...and the other Mr. Magic Gene here on Atlantis, no one else has come close to understanding how the Ancient technology works..."

"Daniel."

"What?"

"He ascended...twice."

Rodney waved a hand. "Yes, yes, and Daniel. Though he didn't exactly recall much from either time."

"Neither did I."

"But you do now."

"Not so much, just...bits and pieces. Odd words, sounds."

"He said it was gone. I should have known," Rodney mumbled angrily, quickly calculating how much longer before the Daedalus was in range so he could contact Hermiod. The Asgard were known for giving a little misdirection on occasion, probably believing it was for the Tau'ri's own good though he had not considered Thor misdirecting Jack. He thought the little alien guy had more respect for him and the rest of SG-1. They had even named one of their ships after Daniel, after all. Still, when Rodney recalled the number of run-ins he'd had with Hermiod over sharing information on pieces of Asgard technology, he could imagine Thor using the same excuses, that humans, and the Tau'ri in particular, were too young to understand.

Rodney went back to his laptop and pulled up a page from the Ancient database; he swiveled the screen towards Jack.

"What does it say?"

Jack tried to make an expansive gesture but the crutches ruined the effect. "How would I know? I don't speak Ancient."

Rodney crossed his arms, giving Jack a pointed look. "Try."

He leaned in when Jack gave an exaggerated sigh and looked at the page again, seeing the frown deepen. He caught the flick of Jack's startled gaze before Jack began to speak, first in Ancient, the words falling from his lips so easily, and then translating into English, stumbling over only a few of the more esoteric Ancient words. He seemed just as shocked as Rodney at his apparent ease and sank into Rodney's abandoned seat, letting one of the crutches fall to the floor with a loud clatter.

"Wow!"

Rodney felt a grin overtake him, unable to hide his excitement at seeing Jack reading aloud the Ancient script. His voice seemed to be made for those exotic words, stirring up emotions and heat inside Rodney that sent his blood racing south to his groin, recalling the way an old girlfriend used to turn up the heat by talking French during sex. Embarrassment heated his face but he, studiously, kept his face turned away from all but Jack, the heat rising at Jack's smug grin. Something told him he would have to explain that little foible to Jack later tonight.

Rodney clicked his fingers rapidly. "Beckett!" He grabbed Jack's arm and tried to manhandle him out of the seat, dropping him when he realized the crutch was still on the floor beside the chair.

"Hey!"

Rodney picked up the crutch and shoved it into Jack's hand. He grabbed for Jack again but Jack slapped his hand away, though without true force.

"The answer's no."

"I haven't even..."

"I'm not having a brain scan, Rodney."

Rodney paused. "Seriously?"

"Hell, yeah!"

Rodney caught the base of an empty chair with his foot and drew it towards him, sinking down next to Jack. "The scan would show if there's increased brain activity in areas usually unused."

Radek leaned on the desk beside both men. "You have a theory?"

Waving a hand in a _sort of_ gesture, Rodney sighed. "I don't think the information is gone. Least not all of it. I think it's just inaccessible...or was."

"You think his brain is creating new neural pathways to the stored data."

"He is sitting right here."

"My apologies, General." Jack flinched back as Radek leaned in closer, staring straight into his eyes as if he could see the information hidden inside Jack's skull. "It is like hard drive removed from computer. Everything is retained on it but, without the computer, there is no way to gain access to it, no way to see the directory structure, to see each file."

"Except I am seeing...files."

"Exactly!"

Jack smiled inside at the excitement that suffused his lover's face. Blue eyes glittered, wide and open like the ocean surrounding Atlantis. His fingers began to conjure figures in the air as Rodney described what he called a neural interface, sending Jack's thoughts back to Antarctica and the way those hands had mesmerized him as Rodney described a Potentia. He frowned. ZED PM...not Potentia. Potentia was *their* word and yet it seemed to be the right word, elegant and powerful like the device itself.

"Wait!" He held up a hand, almost succumbing to the temptation to grab Rodney's beautiful, expressive hands in his just to still them for a moment, just to feel the warmth of his flesh and capture a small part of him. "So my brain's connecting the dots."

"Huh? Oh. In its simplest analogy I suppose that...Yes." His hands fluttered down into his lap when Jack raised a questioning eyebrow.

"And is this good or bad?"

"Good...I think."

"You think?"

"Yes. Yes. It's good." Rodney stared hard at him. "It's very good."

**--**

A week later, Daniel paused at the entrance to Rodney's domain, unsurprised to find Jack close at hand. He knew he ought to feel jealous knowing Jack had found someone new to love, someone who made him happy but he could not feel resentment against Rodney. Rodney was perfect for Jack, someone who brought out his protective instincts, someone who saw all his flaws and yet still looked at him in adoration, as if he was the most beautiful man in all creation.

If only it was enough.

Daniel sighed. The Daedalus was only a week away and when it returned to Earth, Caldwell and the SGC expected him and Jack to be on it. For his own part, he knew he did not want to leave Atlantis and the people he had found here even though he would miss Teal'c and Sam. He could tell just from the softened look in Jack's eyes that he did not want to leave either but that was not surprising considering what waited for him on Earth. Over these last few days, Daniel had tried to figure out reason's for both of them to stay in Atlantis, wanting to cite the latest discoveries, the sheer amount of work left to do, and the new worlds once touched by the Ancients that they could explore. Even the city posed a lifetime of work with so much still untouched, so many laboratories, homes, places of work and play still to be discovered.

Atlantis had been one of his lifelong dreams, the dream that pushed him into becoming an anthropologist and linguist, but not necessarily as one of those academics who spent their whole lives inside a dusty library. He had followed his parents on their explorations of ancient Egypt and later walked in the temples of the sun in South America, along the Great Wall of China, along Hadrian's Wall. He had seen parts of Earth's history scattered across two galaxies and he wanted to be one of the first from Earth to revisit those worlds and discover the secrets left behind.

Jack might not be an archaeologist, anthropologist or a linguist but exploration was in his blood too. He needed to be out there walking among the ruins of long dead civilizations and meeting the civilizations that had grown in its place. For all his lazy sarcasm, he was a people person like John Sheppard, easygoing, intelligent, and charming. The only positive thing Daniel could say about the post in Washington was that it pandered to Jack's unacknowledged diplomatic skills, his ability to put others at ease. The Asgard had loved him from the beginning, and so had many others.

He watched Jack hobble around the laboratory, following Rodney to a laptop that had started to send out a small alarm. Despite his grace even with crutches, Daniel felt the crushing weight of Jack's injuries upon him. No matter his dreams, he would never lead another off-world mission and that was why he had accepted the promotions that took him from the front line but Atlantis offered more than just off-world mission within the Pegasus galaxy. Atlantis offered hope for defeating the Wraith and freeing this galaxy from their stranglehold and Jack's newfound skills with all things Ancient would benefit both galaxies were he to remain here. If only he could be persuaded.

The alarm was silenced quickly but Rodney's voice held fresh tension as he shouted orders at his staff and grabbed for a toolkit.

"Radek, I want you to monitor the situation from the control room. I need you to shut down power to that section on my mark."

"And where will you be?" Rodney cocked his head in that gesture that said, _where do you think?_ , so Radek continued. "Then you should take Simpson with you...and Colonel Sheppard."

"Fine." The tone said all was not fine but that Rodney would concede the point that it might take someone with a stronger version of the ATA gene to manipulate the controls.

As he hurried away, tapping his headset to relay a call to Sheppard, Jack called out. "I'm going with you."

Daniel half expected Rodney to turn a look of disdain upon Jack but, instead, he eyed the crutches and then smiled shyly as Jack followed him down the corridor towards the nearest transporter without a murmur of dissent. Daniel hurried to catch up, slipping between the doors as they started to close and gaining raised eyebrows from both men.

"I'm coming too," he stated with a smile. The journey took but an instant and then the doors were opening. Sheppard and Simpson were waiting for them.

"What's the problem, Rodney?"

"Colonel, we have a power fluctuations from the air conditioners venting the north of the city. In itself, that is hardly a cause for concern but," he pointed a finger, "Automatic recalibration drains power from the ZPM at an alarming rate."

"Then turn off the automatic recalibration program," Jack stated.

"We can't. Atlantis considers it a primary system. No air flow, no oxygen, no life."

Daniel frowned. "Surely it has to recognize that we're on the surface and so air isn't exactly..."

"Maybe." He threw up his arms. "And maybe a downed Puddlejumper should have recognized that inertial dampeners are not worth the power expenditure when stranded at the bottom of an ocean." He took a deep breath and started walking, forcing the others to follow. "We know the Atlantis shield was built to withstand the vacuum of space and the pressures of the ocean. We know Atlantis needed a means of circulating air through the city to keep its inhabitants...say...breathing? What we don't know is how many of the interior rooms were sealed when the shield collapsed and later when the Wraith attacked the city. Yes, Atlantis sacrificed some less important areas before the failsafe mechanism kicked in and brought the city to the surface, but bulkheads would have slammed into place and the only thing venting air into those compartments...which might be the size of a football stadium...is this system. Working at optimum performance levels, it causes minimal power drainage but..."

"But it's not working at optimum levels," finished Sheppard with a wry smile, gaining a pointed finger in his direction that implied he had got it.

"Ah! Here we are." Rodney stopped suddenly and tapped his headset, using an open channel. "Radek? Are you in the control tower?"

"I am ready."

"Good. I've reached the main panel and I'm removing the cover. Hmm?"

"What do you see?"

"Actually?" He paused, visibly checking the alignment of the crystals from what Daniel could discern. "Nothing. I don't see anything wrong here." He straightened, replacing the panel swiftly before heading down a small walkway hanging above the ocean with Simpson following.

**--**

Rodney took a moment to enjoy the view of the city. He was twenty feet above the waterline, looking down one of the long water-filled trenches between the arms of the city. In the distance he could see the control tower rising majestically into the sky, surrounded by smaller spires and towers. The view was amazing and he wondered why he had never found the time to simply stop and appreciate the engineering and artistic genius of the city. It was both beautiful and functional, a rare combination, so he could forgive its master builders the odd mistake but then, they had never anticipated abandoning the city, assuming it would always remain a vibrant center for their civilization rather than an empty shell awaiting rediscovery.

Here and there he could see scorches and twisted metal, remnants of Wraith darts brought down by the rail guns during the siege. In time, Rodney hoped to see scores of engineers repairing the damages wrought by time and battle but not today. Today he needed to focus on finding a reason for the sudden power drains to this section.

Holding the energy reader in front of him, Rodney walked along the narrow causeway with Simpson only a few steps behind. He saw her hesitate to step out but a small energy shield had formed upon detecting his ATA gene that would prevent them from falling. When he looked across at the huge vent filtering the air intake he grimaced, recognizing Wraith technology fused with the Ancient from the searing heat of a dart exploding. He took a few more steps forward as the blue force field extending along the edge of the walkway and around the massive vent shimmered, noticing how parts of the dart had eroded further, weakening the shield. His eyes widened in shock when, suddenly, the shield collapsed, the air direction changing, pushing outwards. The force of air lifted him from his feet and hurled him over the low rail.

He barely had time to shout before he hit the hard surface of freezing cold water, the air forced from his lungs in shock. His brain caved into an imperative to breathe and tried to suck in air, only to fill his lungs with water but all Rodney saw was the darkness closing in on him as he continued to fall.

**--**

"Rodney!"

Jack's frantic cry tore at Daniel's heart even as Daniel managed to grab Simpson's arm, preventing her from meeting the same fate. He dropped her to the ground and began to kick off his shoes and jacket, stopping only to grab at Jack as he started to do likewise but there was no way Jack could jump in after Rodney and expect to save himself let alone Rodney. Daniel felt the brush of air as Sheppard rushed past, catching a sight of bare feet as he dived over the edge, his TAC vest, gun and jacket discarded on the ground behind Daniel.

Jack had dropped his crutches and was holding onto the top bar with whitened knuckles, eyes fixed on the ever-expanding ripples from where two bodies had hit the water.

"Where are they?" He demanded but Daniel had no answer.

An explosion of water heralded Sheppard's return to the surface, dragging Rodney with him. The sight galvanized Jack into action, his eyes darting along the high walkway to what had to be a landing dock about twenty feet further into the city.

"Sheppard!" Upon catching Sheppard's attention, he indicated towards the dock, using the rail to steady himself and keep the weight off his broken leg as he rushed towards the stairs. Daniel raced ahead of him, hearing Jack calling for medical assistance. He reached the stairs just ahead of Simpson, using the support rails to slide down to the landing dock. Sheppard was still ten feet away and looking exhausted as he made for the dock so Daniel yanked off his socks and shallow dived towards him.

The shock of the cold water almost took his breath away but he managed to hold it in, spluttering as he surfaced and instantly understanding why Sheppard was tiring. No one could survive this temperature for more than a few minutes. He swam out fast and grabbed hold of Rodney, helping Sheppard drag the drowned man back to the dock. Somehow, Jack had managed the stairs and Daniel had a silly thought that Carson was going to kill him if he'd damaged that leg any further yet he could not deny the relief at having those strong arms reaching for Rodney and pulling him out of the water while he and Sheppard pushed from beneath.

By the time Daniel had pulled himself out of the water, and then helped Sheppard, Jack was already working on Rodney with Simpson's assistance, trying to force air into Rodney's water-filled lungs. One look at Rodney's deathly pale face and blue-tinged lips brought fear to the surface but Daniel could see the determination on Jack's face every time he lifted up from giving two breaths. He watched as Simpson performed chest compressions, his eyes only drawn away at the sound of feet and raised voices from above.

"Here!" Daniel shouted, relief filling him when the first person down the stairs was Carson Beckett.

Gently, Carson pushed Jack aside while simultaneously throwing commands up for one of his people to bring down the emergency blankets. With all his attention caught on Carson and Rodney, Daniel startled when one was draped over his shoulders; he drew it closer to his shaking body, feeling the cold biting into him.

"Come on, Rodney. Breathe, man!"

A gurgle preceded a small convulsion, and Carson smoothly rolled Rodney onto his side into the recovery position as water trickled from between pale lips, his hand smoothing over short, wet hair as he murmured reassuring nonsense to the semi-conscious man. Daniel let his eyes slide over to where Jack was still on the ground, half-rolled onto his side with his injured leg stretched out uncomfortably. His expression said it all as one emotion after another chased across his face; fear and relief, love and anger. All of it so natural and yet so revealing of the true nature of his relationship with Rodney to anyone with a care to notice.

**--**

Jack sat back as Rodney took his first shaky breaths, eyes closing as the fear washed away in a tide of relief. He thought he had lost him. For one terrible moment he thought he would never hold Rodney's warm, living body in his arms again, never see the arch of his back as Jack sucked him off, never taste the bittersweet climax flooding into his mouth or hear his whimpering cries and moans as he came. Yet there was more to their relationship than sex, more than just the mind-numbing ecstasy drawn from his body by Rodney's mouth or hands. They would lie together afterwards in post-coital bliss, fingers stroking flesh tenderly, lovingly, offering gentle kisses. And they would talk, sharing moments of their day, and of their past, letting the other kiss away the pain and share the laughter.

He thought he could manage never having that again, thought he could step onto the Daedalus and go back to his old life with those few weeks of pleasure to sustain him indefinitely. Now he knew it for a lie. He could not imagine a life without Rodney lying in his bed, sharing his life and his love. He could not imagine spending the rest of his life in that empty office, behind that cold desk, with Rodney a galaxy away from his arms.

Today he had almost lost him, and the strength of his fear and his need had almost overwhelmed him as Sheppard and Daniel dragged Rodney's lifeless body through the water. Today he had a taste of what was to come and he neither liked it nor wanted to experience it again, no matter the cost.

"Sir?"

Cpl. Johnson's soft question called him back from his terrible thoughts and he accepted the arm offered to him, rising to his one good leg carefully. Johnson must have come with the medical team and Jack wondered if the man was strong enough to carry him up the stairs, uncertain if he could make it on his own. Instead, he was surprised to see a Puddlejumper hovering over the water, the back lowering so that it formed a bridge from the dock. He watched as Rodney was carried on-board on a stretcher with Sheppard following, his lean frame wrapped in an emergency blanket and supported by one of Beckett's people, his hair strangely flat against his head, weighted with cold water. He was shivering badly and seemed a little confused, and Daniel seemed only marginally better.

"Now that's what I call a lucky break," he stated, indicating towards the steep set of stairs leading up from the dock to the lower level.

"Sir?"

"Not in the best shape to make that climb."

Johnson grinned, finally understanding. "No, sir."

All four of them ended up in the infirmary with Carson fussing over Rodney's recovery, spouting words about hypothermia and pneumonia, and leaving the rest of them in Dr. Biro's capable hands. She addressed Sheppard and Daniel first.

"Okay, gentlemen. Let's get you out of the rest of those wet clothes and into these immediately."

She laid a set of scrubs on top of two of the beds, patting them meaningfully before assigning a male nurse to each man and pulling the curtains to give them a little privacy. While waiting, she pulled out a digital thermometer and tapped it against her crossed arms, smiling when one of the nurses came in with warm drinks. When she pulled back the curtain, both Sheppard and Daniel were in scrubs and buried under warm blankets. She took their temperatures quickly, murmuring to herself about core temperatures.

Jack heard no more as his own private hell was about to start with the arrival of Dr. Salas. He hissed in pain when Salas checked his leg, knowing he had not helped the healing process in his rush to save Rodney but uncaring because Rodney was more important. The torture seemed to go on forever until Salas finally stopped and offered him a pair of scrubs. He pointed to the bed next to Daniel but that was okay with Jack as he did not intend to be anywhere else, wanting to stay close to Rodney.

**--**

"Hey, Rodney! You gave us quite a scare there, buddy."

"He's not the only one," Carson murmured, earning him a glare from John as John's thoughts returned to the accident that had taken place almost a full day earlier...

John was surprised when Rodney stepped out onto the narrow causeway set at least twenty feet above the ocean, with barely a moment's hesitation, and then he noticed the slight flare of blue that rose from the edge to at least chest height, superseding any need for a safety rail. He realized it had to be ATA gene activated and wondered how Simpson would have fared on her own as the gene therapy had not taken with her. Still, he decided that as long as she remained with Rodney then she ought to be all right, but he moved closer anyway, gaining a slight frown from O'Neill.

The force field flared blue again and John could sense it, feeling it tingling at the back of his mind as he stretched out his thoughts, and he frowned as that sensation fluctuated minutely, putting him on edge. Although he could not explain why, he unzipped his TAC vest, for once glad he had left the P90 behind in the armory. He had a strange sense of dread coiling in his belly, a feeling that O'Neill shared judging by the worry creasing his forehead.

The force field collapsed suddenly, the link snapping in John's mind. One moment Rodney was unconsciously muttering about Wraith darts and the next he was falling, his arms wind-milling as a strong gust lifted him from his feet and pushed him over the edge. John was already in motion as he stripped off his TAC vest, with it hitting the ground just about the same time Rodney hit the water, the force of impact cutting off his strangled cry. O'Neill's anguished shout and the sound of those damn crutches clattering to the ground followed as John's jacket, gun and shoes dropped swiftly and then he was speeding past Jackson and diving the twenty feet into the center of the spreading ripples.

The shock of cold water made him jackknife, the pain shooting through his limbs, and he clamped his mouth shut against an indescribable urge to gasp for breath. He could see a haze of pale flesh just below and he forced his way down, grasping the upraised arm as Rodney continued to sink under the weight of his clothing. His mind flashed back to one of Rodney's mini-lectures, given as they ate dinner together following the infamous Storm.

'According to the oceanographers, the sea temperature could drop as low as -2 degrees Celsius in the winter months...that's 28.4 degrees Fahrenheit to you, Colonel.'

'About the same temperature the night the Titanic sank.'

'What? Oh...exactly, and we all know what happened to those who went into the water.'

The temperature of the sea around Atlantis was probably closer to 40 Fahrenheit on the surface but it was far colder underneath. Too cold. When he broke the surface with Rodney in tow, he looked up to see O'Neill pointing towards a lower landing but John was having trouble concentrating, and having problems co-coordinating his trembling limbs as he held onto Rodney's heavy weight and tried to kick towards the landing area. He barely registered the extra hands that grabbed Rodney from the other side, too intent on that single goal of saving Rodney.

The rest of the rescue was a blur with fractured images of Jackson's concerned blue eyes looking huge against his pale, wet face; of Rodney's slack features and blue lips, and of O'Neill kissing Rodney, though John kind of realized that the General was performing CPR rather than something more intimate. He felt the blanket drop over his shoulders and he hugged it tightly to his violently shivering body, trying to keep what little focus he retained upon the tableau before him. Part of him seemed to understand that he could not help Rodney, that he had to leave his best friend in the hands of others, in O'Neill's hands and then Carson's, but that did not stop him from wanting to be there. When the shivering stopped, John felt too confused to understand why that was so important. Instead, he let someone lead him into a Puddlejumper and press him into the bench seat at the back, only partly aware of Lorne's voice coming from the cockpit, the meaning lost among the terse orders issued by Carson to his medical crew.

The flight back to the Jumper Bay and the journey to the infirmary were scattered memories filled with tiny flashes of Rodney's naked flesh as Carson continued to monitor his now-breathing patient, and of the steady thump of O'Neill's crutches as he kept pace with the gurney carrying Rodney. John thought he recalled reaching the infirmary; he thought he remembered Biro's clipped words ordering him to strip but the memories were vague...

His thoughts returned to the present, drinking in the sight of Rodney blinking up at him. Those blue eyes traveled around him as if searching for something, or someone. With a smirk, John realized exactly who Rodney was looking for.

"Carson sent him out to get some food and rest about an hour ago, and told him not to come back upon threat of big needles and tetanus shots."

Rodney gave a weak smile, nodding softly before he was overtaken by a huge yawn. John leaned down and patted him on the shoulder. "Get some more rest, McKay. I'll check back on you later."

"Okay."

The murmur was almost too soft to capture as long lashes fluttered, eyes finally closing and breathing easing into sleep. John sank back into the seat vacated by O'Neill and thought about his own awakening earlier that day...

**--**

Waking up in the infirmary was almost a luxury. His body was finally warm and dry, and he stretched and yawned indulgently, finally cracking open his eyes at the sound of movement close by. Jackson was seated by his bedside, still wrapped in a warm blanket; his intense blue eyes crinkled into a welcoming smile.

"Welcome back."

John looked at him in confusion. "What happened?"

"Oh, a bad case of hypothermia. You had us all worried."

John startled as Carson appeared right beside him.

"Aye, it was a close one. For once, the lack of even an ounce of spare fat on your body worked against you." Carson leaned over and began to fiddle with one of the monitors. "If Dr. Biro had not acted so swiftly once she realized how low your core temperature had dropped, then we might easily have lost you."

John turned to Jackson, partly in disbelief, his eyes raking the other man. Although Jackson looked a little tired, his coloring seemed far better than John could recall from those snatches of memory.

"I didn't suffer so badly. Spent less time in the water than you."

"Aye, and he has a stockier frame too." Carson gave a small smirk at Jackson's raised eyebrows. "I'd best be checking on my other patients. Try to get some more rest, Colonel."

Those words pulled forth a memory and he called Carson back with a single name. "Rodney?"

If they had to be worrying about anyone then it ought to be Rodney. After all, Rodney had not been breathing when they dragged him out of the cold water. Carson gave a tight smile and John could read the worry behind his eyes, seeing the tension that thinned his lips and creased the corners of his mouth.

"He's holding his own, Colonel, but he's not out of the woods yet. We won't know for certain until he wakes up...and that could be some hours yet."

Carson patted his arm and then turned away, heading back across the infirmary to a curtained-off section. John caught a glimpse of O'Neill sprawled in a seat, his injured leg stretched out in front of him and slightly raised by a makeshift foot stool. Although John could not see the bed's occupant, he knew it would be Rodney.

Jackson leaned forward once Carson was out of earshot. "You missed all the fireworks. Biro and Carson tore a strip off the medic who was assigned to take care of us. Apparently, he got too caught up in the struggle to save Rodney to notice our condition. I have a feeling Carson's found him a berth on the Daedalus for the trip back to Earth."

John nodded, understanding why Carson would be furious enough to send someone back home. Life in Atlantis was tough enough without losing trust in your staff's ability to do their jobs. The Atlantis Expedition could afford to ask for the best people from their respective fields but most of Carson's people had to double up as field medics and surgeons too. For some, it simply did not work out.

Even John knew the proper procedures for staving off hypothermia but, at the time, he had been too out of it to care. He knew the medic should have stripped both him and Jackson down to their boxers at least, rather than leaving them in their freezing, soaked clothing. The clothing would have continued to leach all the heat from their bodies, leaving them vulnerable to severe hypothermia.

"According to Carson, by the time you reached the infirmary, your body was too cold to find enough energy even to shiver. It was only when Dr. Biro took your temperature that she realized how dangerously low your core temperature had dropped."

**--**

Hours later, Carson released him with instructions to stay warm and eat properly. No doubt Rodney would tease him about this later, mentioning Biro's known preference for cold bodies and, perhaps not so perversely, John was looking forward to it purely because Rodney was alive.

He shuddered in memory of those dead eyes staring into forever and of the blue lips; how it had not seemed right to see Rodney so still, so lifeless. He could still hear that anguished shout from O'Neill, filled with a fear that went beyond a passing acquaintance. From the satisfied look on Rodney's face over this past week, John had his suspicions that Rodney was getting laid. He knew Rodney was an equal opportunity kind of guy, willing to bed either gender, so he'd naturally assumed it was Jackson after that ecstatic welcome in the gate room.

Where he had been more than happy to spoil Rodney's chances with Norina, he had hesitated to drive a wedge between Rodney and Jackson. He knew they were friends from Antarctica, and from perhaps even further back than that, and had no idea if this was a continuance of a relationship or something new between them.

In hindsight, he ought to have guessed that it was O'Neill as it was pretty obvious that the General was paying a lot more attention to Rodney than would normally be expected for someone in the military, himself excepted. He knew O'Neill had refused to leave Rodney's side during the long hours when Carson could not be certain if Rodney would make it, fearing complications such as pneumonia but these worries had proved unfounded so far. Of course, Carson could have ordered him away much sooner and the fact that he allowed O'Neill to stay spoke highly of the relationship between O'Neill and Rodney.

Now the initial shock was over, John could see the attraction between the two, how each complimented the other. He thought he would be jealous for there had been a time when he had considered making a move on Rodney but, DADT aside, the non-fraternization rule was one he believed in. While Rodney remained on his team then he was out of bounds, and John wanted Rodney on his team more than he wanted him as a lover.

For Rodney's sake, he felt relieved that it was O'Neill. John had noticed the heated glances Jackson had thrown in his direction when he thought John was not paying attention and, as much as he had disliked the idea of Jackson being unfaithful to Rodney, the thought of having Jackson in his own bed had sparked many a fantasy since Jackson's arrival in Atlantis.

Now, his fear for Rodney was receding, John wondered if he might have a chance to turn fantasy into reality.  
**--**  
The orders to rest were still ringing in Rodney's ears and, for once, he did not have the energy to question them. His body felt heavy and abused, his chest aching from both Jack's and Carson's attempts to resuscitate him. Cracked ribs were the least of Carson's worries though. He had forced Rodney to endure an extra day in the infirmary just so he could keep a _listen_ on Rodney's lungs. Fortunately, Carson's fear of pneumonia came to nothing, most likely due to the antibiotics pumped into him, though that did not prevent Carson from insisting that Rodney return tomorrow for a further check-up.

Jack was waiting for Rodney when he returned to his quarters. By rights, Rodney should have felt annoyed to find someone had broken into his quarters and was now sleeping on his bed but, instead, his heart leaped into his throat as he moved across the room as stealthily as his abused body could manage just so he could stand and gaze down at Jack.

In sleep, Jack seemed to have found the fountain of youth, with all the lines of stress eased from his handsome face leaving him almost childlike in slumber. His silver-gray hair was askew, standing up at all angles and Rodney wondered whether that was a flyboy thing or, more likely, something particular to natural gene carriers because both Sheppard and Carson had the same sticky-up hair. Jack's lips, often thinned with concern, looked plumper in repose, almost begging a lover's kiss, the edges upturned into a soft smile. Rodney wondered if he had been dreaming something wonderful, something pleasurable.

Jack had fallen asleep on top of the covers, still clothed in a black t-shirt and faded pants that had been slit up one side to accommodate his heavily strapped leg, though he had, at least, removed his single military-issue boot. The t-shirt clung to the outline of his lean but muscular frame, accentuating the well-toned body beneath. Rodney let his eyes slide down the lean figure in appreciation of a body that he knew so intimately now, recalling the soft curls of silver hair on Jack's chest that would tickle his nose as he lapped and sucked upon a nipple, and the satin flesh over a firm belly as his tongue dipped into Jack's naval and his fingers glided down to card through the coarser hair of Jack's groin. Only three nights had passed since he had last shared his body and his bed with Jack and he had missed him so much. He had missed the strong fingers that held down his hips when Jack took him in his mouth and gave him a mind-stealing blow job. He had missed the crazy, dirty words, whispered hoarsely into his ear as Jack thrust deep inside him, telling him how goddamn beautiful he was, how tight and hot and perfect.

Damn but he had missed the feel of Jack moving inside him, the sense of fullness, of completion as he straddled Jack's thighs, his body curled over the perfectly sculptured chest while Jack's fingers threaded through Rodney's as his hands pressed into the bed framing Jack's head. He had missed the sharp pain as Jack bit into his shoulder and neck, never breaking skin but marking him, owning him the way no one else had ever tried, or wanted to try. He had missed the flood of liquid heat as Jack came inside him, missed the warm trickle down his inner thighs when Jack finally slipped from inside him.

He'd never had a lover like Jack before, someone who laughed at his unintentional slights, someone who took pleasure out of turning his brain to mush, grinning in delight as Rodney babbled incoherently. Jack seemed to understand him and inexplicably, Rodney seemed to understand Jack's needs too. He knew when Jack needed to be distracted, when Jack simply needed the comfort of arms around him and when he wanted to fuck Rodney hard, slamming balls-deep inside him, hearing his hitched cries of pleasure, of demands for more, harder, harder, harder.

Sex was something that could only get better once Jack was able to take a more active role in their lovemaking, except Rodney was aware of the passing days, and of the Daedalus drawing nearer. Yet sex was not all they shared.

Afterwards they would pet and talk, fingers stroking over sweat-slicked skin with such ease, offering a sweet balm to oversensitive flesh, pressing gentle kisses against exposed flesh while soothing words eased the passage from ecstasy to sleep. He had slept well since Jack began to share his bed, feeling safe in those strong, muscular arms. All the tension eased from his body, melting into the sticky sheet that they discarded before snuggling together, the flat of his palm against Jack's chest, feeling the throb of his heart beat seep into the pads of Rodney's fingers as he edged towards sleep.

By day, Jack's presence both grounded him and set him flying. With each new day, Jack recalled a little more of the Ancient knowledge downloaded into his consciousness and then believed lost. Jack seemed to have thrived since arriving in Atlantis, his eyes losing their tightness, his body losing its tension, and the lines around his eyes and mouth had softened as smiles replaced the rigid control. If Rodney was prone to flights of fancy then he would openly remark on how much Jack had changed in these few weeks, seeing the person who stepped through the Stargate as _The General_ and the man who slept in his arms each night as Jack. Yet, each passing day drew them closer to the end of Jack and the reinstatement of _The General_ , and Rodney did not want to lose what he shared with Jack; he did not want to lose Jack.

Tiredness won out and Rodney sank to the bed beside his sleeping lover, smiling when Jack murmured softly, his eyelashes flickering as he fought his way back from whatever dreams had held him. Beautiful soft brown eyes opened sleepily, the gentle curve of his lips increasing as he smiled in pleasure, evoking an answering grin from Rodney that cast away the shadows for that sweet moment in time.

"Hey! You're back."

"Obviously," Rodney replied but his voice held no sting of sarcasm. Instead, he leaned over and kissed the smiling lips, tasting traces of coffee and, beneath that, a unique taste that Rodney would forever associate with Jack.

Jack's hand lifted to cup the back of Rodney's head, holding him fast as the pressure of their kiss increased. He felt the tip of a tongue stroking across his lips, pushing between them insistently, and Rodney obliged, opening his mouth willingly as Jack stroked inside him, tasting and licking, possessing him intimately. He groaned his appreciation, feeling the echoing vibration as Jack moaned in pleasure, one strong hand closing around Rodney's waist and drawing him down closer until they were lying side by side, facing each other and wrapped in each other's arms.

Rodney pulled back with a snort, aware that they were acting like two horny teenagers, unable to take their hands off each other, unable to resist the lure of lips and tongue and the urge to strip away all vestiges of civilization and lie wonderfully naked, pressed up against each other. He felt Jack's upper hand move, easing between their close-pressed bodies to fumble at Rodney's pants, lowering the zipper and drawing out his hardening flesh. Rodney bucked into the hand that had wrapped around him so firmly, gasping out his pleasure only to have his moans captured and swallowed by Jack. He blinked rapidly in bewilderment when Jack pushed him back, releasing him.

"Too many clothes."

The lust roughened voice set his senses tingling with want and Rodney scrambled off the bed, barely remembering to take care not to knock Jack's injured leg in his haste. He stripped quickly, no longer self-conscious of the softness of his belly or the paleness of his flesh compared to Jack's muscular perfection, no longer ashamed of the slight love handles because he knew Jack loved to hold them, loved to hold him. He felt a moment of hesitation when Jack's eyes narrowed in dismay at the mottled bruising still adorning Rodney's chest.

"Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Don't start making..." Rodney waved a hand, "...faces. Under the circumstances, I'd far prefer a few, admittedly nasty and painfully inflicted bruises to the alternative...the not breathing part."

"Painfully inflicted?" Jack drawled.

"I may have been unconscious at the time but I'm sure the pain..."

"Try dead."

"What?" Rodney frowned. "Yes, yes. I concede I might have been a little...dead at the time but..."

"Painfully...inflicted?"

"If I hadn't been...dead then it would have been painf..."

"If you hadn't been dead then Beckett wouldn't have needed to..." Jack paused, taking a deep breath. "Can we discuss this later? Killing the mood here."

"Oh. Sorry." Rodney wrapped his arms around his body, feeling a little uncomfortable. He had not meant to make Jack feel bad, especially when Jack had played a role in saving his life, an important role. Jack sighed and held out a hand, drawing Rodney back to the bed and holding him close. His fingers carded through the short strands of Rodney's hair, petting him gently while the other hand brushed over Rodney's back, soothing tense muscles until Rodney felt warm and relaxed for the first time in days. He did not resist the gentle push that had him sprawled on his back next to Jack, with Jack leaning over him, propped on one elbow. Jack began to stroke him again, this time touching his bruised chest delicately, each circling sweep gradually widening until fingers flicked lightly across each nipple, sending delicious sparks racing through Rodney, tightening his belly and groin. He moaned in appreciation as Jack leaned over and kissed him; small nibbling kisses along lips and throat that sent tiny shock waves of pleasure dancing along his spine.

"Thought I'd lost you," Jack murmured into his throat, the words barely audible but the flattening of his palm against Rodney's chest spoke volumes as Jack took a shaky breath.

Rodney pulled Jack's face up a little, guiding their lips together. "I'm still here," he whispered against Jack's mouth before slaking his claim upon him, encouraging Jack to part his lips so Rodney could slip inside, his senses filling with his lover's taste and touch as tongues licked and caressed.

With a groan, Jack pulled back, his heated gaze intent on Rodney. Rodney was amazed at how quickly Jack removed his own clothing, considering how he was hampered by his leg. Jack never moved off the bed during the whole process, wriggling beside Rodney, but then Rodney realized that Jack had nothing on beneath those pants. He sat up and watched as the pants went sailing through the air to join the rest of the discarded clothing on the floor, raising both eyebrows only to gain a patented O'Neill smirk in return.

"Don't tell me...You were a boy scout."

"I sing a mean Kum-by-yah."

Rodney held up a hand as if to ward off evil. "Please don't."

Jack grinned and flopped back on to the bed, opening his arms to Rodney; Rodney needed no second invitation, crawling back over Jack, intending to lie back down along Jack's good side. He stopped partway as Jack reached up, his fingers digging into Rodney's shoulder.

"Wanna fuck you," Jack whispered; his hand slid down Rodney's arm from shoulder to wrist. Rodney swallowed hard, heat flaring in his groin just at the thought of Jack inside him. He nodded and reached over to tug open the bedside drawer, fingers finding the lube with ease and dropping it into Jack's hand but Jack shook his head.

"You do it."

Rodney straightened, sitting back up with his knees planted either side of Jack's waist, naked ass spread across Jack's lower torso. "You want me to do *all* the work?"

Jack nodded, face flushed with desire, his brown irises almost completely swallowed by the black of his lust-dilated pupils. His lips had parted, breath forced past in short gasps as if he had just run a marathon. Rodney felt his own face heat with a combination of desire and embarrassment, feeling strangely vulnerable as wriggled down until he was straddling Jack's hips; he held out his hand. Jack was trembling as he squirted the slick lube onto Rodney's fingers, eyes torn between watching Rodney's face and his fingers as Rodney leaned forward, using one arm to brace himself. Rodney reached back and traced one slick finger over the tight muscle, teasing the entrance slowly before easing the first finger inside. He pushed back onto his own finger, gasping softly at the gentle invasion, feeling the softness as the pad of his finger stroked the inner wall. From this angle, he knew Jack could not see much and yet he still felt so vulnerable as he prepared himself, adding another finger to loosen the muscle further. Rodney let the rhythm of his possessing fingers rock him, his supporting arm folding until he was braced on his forearm, chest brushing over Jack's, his head bowing so low that his forehead brushed Jack's shoulder, lifting only slightly so his cheek scraping against Jack's. He felt the pressure of lips against his temple, felt Jack's big hands firmly grasp those love handles, steadying him as Rodney pulled out his fingers and raised himself. He reached for Jack's hard cock, eyes widening when he found it already slicked with lube, a droplet of precome beading on the very tip in anticipation as Jack gave him a wicked grin. Carefully, Rodney grasped the base of Jack's cock and positioned it at his loosened hole, reveling at the feel of the thick head pushing against his flesh. He pushed back, muscle yielding as he sank onto the thick cock, glorying in the intense pressure as Jack filled him and stopping only when he felt the heat of Jack's groin and the coarser, sweat-dampened pubic hairs pressed against his ass. Strong fingers tightened on his hips, fingers splayed out and digging into softer flesh with bruising strength.

Rodney knew what Jack wanted, knew he loved this moment when he was buried balls-deep inside Rodney, possessing him and yet being owned in return. He let the moment lengthen between them, waiting for Jack's fingers to loosen their tight grip, waiting for his breath to even out a fraction. Hands drifted lower, smoothing over Rodney's ass cheeks, fingertips brushing along the crevice. Rodney raised a fraction, enough to allow those questing fingers access between their bodies, trembling as Jack found the join of his flesh with Jack's. Only then did he realize that his eyes were screwed shut and he opened them to find stunned pleasure on Jack's face, aware that he had raised up enough for Jack to see where his cock disappeared inside him, enough for Jack to see what his questing fingers had discovered.

For a moment frozen in time, Rodney delighted in Jack's awe and then it passed as Jack rocked upwards awkwardly, using the bent knee of his uninjured leg for leverage, cock sliding deeper into Rodney and finding that perfect place within that sent a rush of pleasure arcing through Rodney. Rodney bore down, wanting all of Jack deep inside him, muscles clamping to restrict Jack's movement. He whimpered as Jack abandoned one flesh-filled handhold for another, wrapping fingers around the base of Rodney's cock.

"Move, dammit." Jack's hoarse cry sent a shock of triumph through Rodney, knowing he had reduced Jack to begging, exalting in the frantic need glittering in desire-darkened eyes.

Rodney laughed softly, hands pushing down harder on Jack's shoulders as Jack tried to buck beneath him, tried to force the movement he needed to reach completion within Rodney's body. Between Rodney's balanced weight and the injured leg, Jack was helpless, and Rodney wiggled his ass just a fraction, flexing internal muscles that had Jack whimpering from the tortuously small movement.

"Cock-tease," he hissed. "Just wait till I'm..."

Jack choked on a gasp as Rodney pulled up, thigh muscles trembling from the exertion as he dictated the slow movement. He rose higher, feeling the exquisite slide of hot flesh within him while still holding Jack securely in place with both hands pressing down on his shoulders, and then dropped back down with almost brutal speed, drawing gasps from both of them. The double assault of the blunt cock filling his ass and the calloused hand stroking his own hard flesh sent wave upon wave of pleasure crashing through him as he picked up a rhythm of excruciating slow rises and sharp drops.

"Jack, Jack. Oh, oh...Oh fuck, OH!" He knew his words were nonsensical, knew he was babbling but he couldn't help it, couldn't control the broken words of praise and curses as he moved harder and faster, fucking himself on Jack, every muscle clenching in pure ecstasy as the powerful orgasm ripped through him, heat radiating out along muscle, tearing through nerve endings in delicious sensations. He felt the answering liquid heat flooding inside him as Jack tensed beneath him. He rode out Jack's orgasm, his own body one raw nerve of satisfied want and need, and then he collapsed over his lover's gasping, sweat-slicked chest.

Fingers dug into his flesh with bruising strength as the words falling from Jack finally began to make sense.

"Can't lose you. Can't...Can't....Won't..."

Long minutes passed by in blissed silence as they both regained their breath before Jack nudged at Rodney's heavy, sated body. With infinite care, Rodney let the softened cock slip from his body and eased himself to one side, smiling at the burn of abused muscle and the familiar sensation of spent semen trickling down his inner thigh, branding him more than any kiss or love bite.

Rodney lay for many more minutes pressed up against Jack's side, one arm and leg draped possessively over Jack's body. He felt the lethargy of good sex...No, of great sex steal over him, his limbs heavy and sated, thoughts no longer churning with the all the needs of Atlantis or others, finally quieted by the fulfillment of his own selfish needs; his and Jack's. Slowly, he became aware of Jack's fingers stroking him gently while Jack's awe filled voice told him he was _fucking beautiful_ , over and over until even Rodney began to believe it.

He knew he would regret it later but Rodney closed his eyes and let the lethargy of a pleasure-heavy mind and limbs draw him towards sleep, breathing in deeply the scent of male sweat and the musk of sex as his and Jack's spilled semen cooled on his belly and between his legs.

**--**

Jack stroked Rodney's sweat-dampened hair, pressing his lover against his shoulder. He could feel the stickiness of sweat and Rodney's semen clinging to their bodies, cooling upon their flesh as Rodney sank deeper into a much needed sleep. He had seen the dark circles under Rodney's eyes when he first returned to his quarters, had noticed the tension in his battered frame. All of that tension had gone now, his muscles loose and body heavy in Jack's arms. Rodney's breathing evened out, deep and slow as his fingers slowly uncurled, lying loose and easy on Jack's chest.

His own body felt good despite the ache in his leg and he yawned widely before resuming the gentle strokes on soft skin as he caressed Rodney's strong broad back. His hand slid down further, sweeping over the luscious curve of Rodney's ass and he felt a twitch of subdued interest as he imagined how it would feel to have Rodney beneath him, to push those broad shoulders into the mattress as he sank into his upraised ass. Except the Daedalus was due to take him back to Earth soon, long before his leg would be healed enough to make that fantasy a reality.

He sighed and gently worked out from beneath Rodney, easing his exhausted lover's head to the pillow and smiling when Rodney snuffled and wriggled until he was comfortable. Jack limped over to the bathroom and rinsed out a washcloth, wiping the worst of the stickiness from his body before giving the washcloth another rinse.

Rodney barely twitched an eyebrow as Jack wiped the damp cloth over his belly and groin, instead he rolled onto his stomach almost as soon as Jack had finished, drawing up one leg to, unconsciously, give Jack better access. Jack wiped his lover gently, cleaning away the worst of the mess before returning to the bathroom for a longer wash of his own body. He eyed the shower in frustration, wishing he could take advantage of the hot spray but he had no way of keeping his leg dry so he made do with what he could. Once relatively clean and dry, Jack limped back into the main room and slipped back into the bed, grateful that Rodney's prescription mattress was almost twice as wide as the narrow cot in Jack's guest quarters. As if sensing his return, Rodney murmured in his sleep and snuggled close, one arm dropping over Jack's waist, and one leg slipping between Jack's.

Jack stroked the fine hairs on the arm draped across his torso, sleep elusive as he pondered on all his options, working out the logistics of obtaining what he truly wanted, what he needed...and discarding that which he did not want.

He wanted Rodney. He wanted Rodney in his bed each night, wanted the warmth of his strong body pressed close to him, wanted the perfection of his mouth and ass and those incredibly talented fingers and tongue. Jack wanted that brilliant mind focused on him, the rapier wit making him think faster and more joyfully than he had in years, and definitely more than he had since accepting the promotions that took him away from everything he had once loved. These last few weeks had shown him everything he was missing in his life where even the bad moments had led to amazing discoveries about himself and about the basic needs that he had pushed into the lowest drawer of that suffocating desk in Washington.

He knew he couldn't go back to that desk job but, equally, he could not stay in the military, not if he wanted to have what he needed most--Rodney.

When Charlie died, he had taken early retirement, no longer seeing any joy as he relived the single gunshot coming from his own gun within his family home--the shot that took away his little boy's life and destroyed his marriage. Daniel had pulled him back from the edge of that dark abyss and given him a new lease on life but he had not been able to hold him back from that edge indefinitely. The years of pain, of torture at Baal's hand, of losing Daniel more times than he could recall, they had all taken their toll upon him. Even Daniel's resurrections, his descensions, had failed to break through the armor Jack had wrapped around himself so tightly. Yet all it had taken in the end to pierce that armor was a crooked smile, two strong arms and a firm body, and those intensely beautiful, brilliant blue eyes holding his for but a few seconds.

The frightening thing was that if SG-8 had not found a ZPM while exploring Ancient ruins on MX7-P2H then he might never have stepped through the Stargate into Atlantis, might never have discovered Rodney's true worth to him. Now he could not imagine leaving though he knew he would have no choice. He could see but one option. He could take retirement again, leave the military with honor and his rank intact, and sink into relative obscurity where his sexual preferences would not be so great an issue, and he could ask Rodney to go with him.

**--**

Rodney could sense where Jack's thoughts were going long before he reached the small entreaty at the end.

"Come back with me, Rodney."

Rodney closed his eyes and buried his face into Jack's chest, inhaling the scent of the man while his own thoughts raced. In theory, Jack's decision to retire held some merit. As a civilian, the military restrictions of DADT would no longer apply and they would be free to pursue an open relationship, but the thought of leaving Atlantis was unbearable. For Jack he would consider it but, apart from the distressing lack of a social life and, in particular, a partner to share that life with, Atlantis was the culmination of his life's work. It held the key to so many discoveries and Rodney could not imagine not being a part of that. He could not envisage going back to Earth and being content to work in the dark, accepting theories that might already have been superseded or negated by the discoveries here within the Ancient database. Of course, he could continue to work on a copy of the database from a laboratory on Earth but, over these last few years, he had discovered the explorer within him that made him want to put theory into practice. He enjoyed his off-world duties, traveling to new worlds, studying new technologies and seeing how they could integrate with their own. He enjoyed the adventure even though he would be more than happy not to be placed into danger quite so often.

He would miss the people too. Some of the greatest minds from Earth were here on Atlantis. Radek Zelenka and Carson Beckett to name but two, and both of those men had become good friends as well as colleagues. Then there was Ronon and Teyla, and Elizabeth. He had not had anyone he could call a friend until he came to Atlantis. No one had ever taken the time to look beyond his admitted lack of social graces before but these people actually cared about him, and he cared for them too.

And then there was John. Their friendship was still a mystery to him because he could not work out how two people who seemed to have so little in common could become so close. Yet John was the best friend he'd ever had and he would miss him most of all if he left Atlantis.

Although he'd known Jack for years as a passing acquaintance, these few weeks had shown him a whole new side of Jack, revealing the depth of emotion hidden beneath the laconic surface. Instinctively, he knew he was no passing fancy for Jack. He knew without cumbersome words that Jack wanted him for more than the fantastic sex, that he actually desired him as a person with all his quirks, arrogance and pettiness. After making love, Jack would hold him in his arms, often lying face-to-face with one hand sliding in broad strokes as he caressed Rodney's back from shoulder to waist; his voice would be soft, lips tilted into a contented smile as he offered nibbling kisses, and his eyes bright with sated pleasure. Sometimes they would say nothing at all but, more often, they would talk into the early hours, sharing secrets and the joys and fear of past missions before making love again.

No one had ever made Rodney feel so good, so loved and so wanted, and the thought of giving up this closeness formed a tight band around his chest.

Why did his life always have to be so complicated? Why did he have to sacrifice one amazing thing to gain another? It was so unfair. Why couldn't he have both? Atlantis *and* Jack.

Rodney froze. Seriously, he thought, why can't I have both?

Rodney pulled back from Jack's tense embrace, knowing his lack of spontaneous response had sent the wrong message despite Jack's assurance that he would give him time to think about it; as much time as Rodney needed, even if that turned out to be months or years. Except, Rodney sucked at long distance relationships. In truth, he sucked at most relationships but long distance ones were worse and it could not get more long distance than a galaxy away with limited visitation options.

"You don't have to decide right away," Jack reiterated. "If you need more time to think--"

"No. No, I'm staying here...on Atlantis." Rodney saw the hope die in Jack's eyes and hated himself a little for being the one to snuff out that light. He straightened up into a sitting position, still facing Jack as Jack's arms fell away from their hold on him, focusing on his lover intently. "I'm staying here...and so are you."

Jack frowned, rising up to sit facing him, with his injured leg stretched out. "I can't stay, Rodney."

"Why?"

"Just because it's Atlantis, the US military rules don't magically disappear."

"In case you've forgotten, Atlantis is a civilian expedition. Those rules don't apply here."

"Maybe not here," he stressed, "but they do apply on-board the Daedalus and the Odyssey, and back on Earth."

"Only if you're part of the US military," Rodney crowed.

"In case you hadn't noticed, I'm a Major Gener--"

"I thought you were a Brigadier--"

"I got promoted after leaving the SGC."

"Oh. Can never get used to all those rank changes." Rodney waved a hand, "but we're going off on a tangent here. If you retired then you wouldn't be--"

"Then I wouldn't be on Atlantis."

"Why not?"

Jack opened his mouth to answer but shut it quickly, momentarily flummoxed. His lips tightened into a thin line. He opened his mouth to speak again but Rodney beat him to it.

"Elizabeth can hire you on as a civilian contractor."

Jack edged his head back in confusion. "Doing what, exactly?"

Rodney waved a hand around, "I don't know. Anything...Coffee boy."

"Coffee..?"

Rodney snapped his fingers rapidly. "The gene! She's hardly likely to turn down another uber-Gene carrier."

"Uber-Gene?"

"And then there's the whole remembering Ancient...things."

"Civilian contractor?" Jack looked skeptical but Rodney could see the idea gaining ground inside Jack's head, could see him mulling over this fresh option.

"Let me run it past Elizabeth." Rodney stared deep into Jack's eyes, beseechingly. Rodney knew he had won the moment Jack's lean frame relaxed, the tension flowing away as he nodded slowly. He started to clamber out of the bed but Jack caught his arm.

"It's three in the morning."

"What?" Rodney looked to the bedside clock. "Oh! Yes, I suppose we should wait another couple of hours." Rodney rubbed his hands together, his mind whirling with ideas and fears, trying to second guess Elizabeth's reaction, and John's. Oh no. John, he thought. How would John react to having his former commanding officer, General O'Neill, working alongside him in Atlantis?

The force of lips pressed tightly against his own culled those thoughts before Rodney could start to panic. His arms wrapped under Jack's, hands gripping shoulder blades and feeling the tickle of sweat-dampened chest hair momentarily before he was pressed tightly against Jack; his lips parted as Jack possessed his mouth fully.

By the time he was able to think straight again, his body was too tired from his recent ordeal, and too sated to care about anything but sleep, not even noticing when Jack slipped from his room just a short while later to avoid being caught with Rodney by the early morning risers.

**--**

Jack returned to his room and washed quickly and thoroughly, drawing on a fresh uniform before keying his headset to contact Elizabeth. He knew Rodney would be angry at him for taking this step alone but he wanted to talk to her without Rodney's demanding presence. He did not want her to feel railroaded into making a decision that would affect the power balance in Atlantis for, with or without rank, Jack knew he was a commanding presence.

Elizabeth sounded tired and, for one moment, he regretted calling her this early before the sun had even started to grace the horizon. In contrast, Colonel Sheppard sounded no different than usual with his lazy drawl covering any evidence of fatigue. He requested their presence for an early meeting, knowing he was walking a fine line by making such a request on personal grounds.

Half an hour later, he was pouring out a mug of coffee, still uncertain how he ought to broach the subject, especially with the sword of DADT hanging over his head by a slender thread. Yet, Sheppard did not seem the type of man to pay undue attention to the more stupid regulations, willing to turn a blind eye to some infractions as long as everyone remained professional in their duty.

Elizabeth took a sip of coffee, her slim hands wrapped around her mug as if warding off a cold night despite the ambient temperature in the room. She lifted a single, well-shaped eyebrow. "General?"

"Jack," he stated, looking to Sheppard questioningly, hoping the name familiarity would let Sheppard recognize the unspoken request that this was off the record.

Sheppard nodded his agreement.

"I'm thinking of retiring from the military..." Sheppard's eyebrows rose. "...and wondered if you could use a..." He recalled Rodney's words from earlier. "A civilian contractor."

If the whole situation had not been so deadly serious, Jack might have laughed at the comical way the two looked to each other as if to confirm what they had just heard. They both recovered at the same time and Elizabeth leaned forward, an intrigued smile hovering on her lips.

"Notwithstanding the advantage of having another strong gene carrier in Atlantis, had you considered what role you would take here?"

Jack blew out a breath and raised his hands. "Obviously not military commander." He spoke those words direct to Sheppard, wanting him to know from the outset that he had no intention of relieving Sheppard of his post as head of the Military on Atlantis. If he retired then he would no longer be in the chain of command and holding a rank higher than Sheppard's. Few would have noticed the way Sheppard relaxed at his words, the way his eyes lost their wariness and his posture eased. "Or Expedition leader," Jack added, looking towards Elizabeth.

Elizabeth's lips twitched at that because, as a civilian, Jack O'Neill could have posed a serious threat to her position. He had the ear of the President of the United States too, and had several key leadership and diplomatic events on his resume to make him a highly desirable replacement. Her own position had been a little tenuous after the fiasco with Michael after all. Her eyes crinkled up in a smile as she glanced across to Sheppard again and Jack saw something pass between them as Sheppard's lips quirked into an answering smile.

"If you're serious about this...and I do believe you are, then I'll need time to discuss this with Colonel Sheppard and Dr. McKay before we take this any further forward." She gave him a conspiratorial look. "Though I suspect Rodney might already know something about this."

Jack felt the heat rise in his face, aware that he might not necessarily have been as discrete with Rodney as he had believed. The twitch of Sheppard's lips confirmed it, and the lack of any disgust or condemnation increased Jack's respect for Sheppard even as it confirmed his earlier thoughts regarding Sheppard and DADT. His respect for Sheppard was already high from his selfless act in pulling Rodney from a cold and watery grave but, now, Jack understood why Rodney considered Sheppard a good friend.

"So!" Jack placed both hands on the tabletop and pushed up, using the table for support just a fraction longer as he gained his balance. "I'd better..." He thumbed over his shoulder towards the door, momentarily freezing when Sheppard stood abruptly to attention and saluted him sharply. He nodded tightly, recognizing the true respect being given. "Colonel," he stated softly and left the room, knowing they needed to talk freely and alone.

Jack wandered out onto the balcony adjoining the control room and stared out across the city towards the seemingly endless ocean. The sky had started to lighten, with stars closest to the horizon winking out. He saw the first shaft of sunlight pierce the remaining darkness as the golden disc of the Atlantean sun rose as if from the depths of the sea.

"Solasirus nostrasimius," he whispered, not truly understanding the poetic words that slipped into his head but knowing they were connected to the beautiful sunrise. Those words triggered others that rolled through his mind in perfect rhythm and harmony, and Jack knew he was recalling a piece of poetry, an ode or prayer to the rising sun, written more than ten thousand years ago. He murmured the words, smiling as the last line fell into the stillness of the new day. He wanted to go to Rodney, wishing he could crawl back into that warm bed beside his lover and hold him tight, smothering his sleep-softened face with teasing kisses. Perhaps, in time, he might be able to do just that, and not have to worry about sneaking from his male lover's bed in the early hours to avoid being caught together. If Elizabeth and Sheppard agreed to let him stay on as a civilian, then he and Rodney could make a life together without the need for subterfuge.

He sighed as he looked back towards Elizabeth's office. She had darkened the glass for privacy, leaving him with no visible clue as to how the discussion was proceeding. He was tempted to go to the commissary and grab a coffee while he waited for their decision but could not seem to make his feet move in that direction. Instead, he took advantage of the small bench someone had set up on the balcony and let his thoughts drift away with the sound of the sea as he rested his aching leg.

When Rodney joined them over an hour later, Jack raised his head, catching Rodney's perplexed expression before Rodney disappeared inside Elizabeth's office.

**--**

John sank back into his seat, pleased at the way this meeting had progressed. He had spent the past hour going over details with Elizabeth as they discussed bringing Jack O'Neill onto Atlantis permanently. Neither of them could find any objections to the man's presence as a civilian contractor. On the contrary, John had immediately considered several important posts that O'Neill could fill that would take advantage of the man's incredible experience and ability while lessening the strain of command upon his own shoulders.

In many ways, O'Neill would be partially fulfilling the role that had been offered to John originally, before leaving Antarctica. However, when Sumner died on that very first day, John had no choice but to take over as military commander leaving him with few tactical choices. Although a good soldier, Ford had lacked the necessary experience to head up city security, his duty better performed on the first contact team rather than leaving him behind in Atlantis, and that left Bates in charge of the city. Bates did an admirable job but he had no understanding of the needs of the scientists and, in particular, their health and safety, and neither did he have the Ancient gene. He could not utilize the security protocols within Atlantis without a gene-carrier at his beck and call and, even if he had not been comatose during the siege, he would not have been able to operate the Chair once it had been powered up by first the Mark 2 Naquadah generator and then the ZPM.

Sometimes, John wondered how he would have managed if Everett had not arrived on the eve of battle and John had been caught between manning the Chair and trying to co-ordinate the city defenses after the Wraith reached Atlantis.

Following the siege, John had delegated much of the city security to his new 2IC, Major Lorne, but it was clear that Lorne was overstretched trying to balance that post with his off-world duties, to which he was far better suited. At least Lorne had reacted positively to the gene therapy but, like Carson, his ability to use the gene was weak. Lorne could fly the jumpers and activate Ancient technology well enough but the more sophisticated systems took far more effort because he could not use the technology intuitively like John.

In comparison, O'Neill's command of the Ancient gene was easily the equal of John's, perhaps even greater because of the reconnecting memories from the Ancient repository downloaded into his brain not once but twice. More importantly, he was a soldier who had used the Chair in Antarctica in anger. He had commanded the release of the drones, bringing down Anubis's fleet. Yet his experience did not end there for, in addition, O'Neill had commanded the SGC for a short time, taking responsibility for the lives of every scientist and soldier there, and overseeing their tasks to ensure that every measure was taken for their continued health and security.

John knew that O'Neill's knee injury had forced him to retire from the off-world teams so if anyone could be perfect for taking on the role of Head of Internal Security, then it would be O'Neill.

When he casually mentioned this to Elizabeth, he was not surprised to find she agreed with him. Her only demand was that O'Neill would have equal status to John, deferring to John only when a situation was deemed a military emergency.

Recalling his actions during the nanovirus outbreak, John could understand her insistence, and though he still believed that he had acted in the city's best interest on that occasion, he knew his actions had undermined her authority. However, he could hardly explain that he had acted purely because he could not ask one of his men to stop Peterson from entering the city, with extreme prejudice if necessary, and then just sit and wait to die from expose to the very same virus. And Peterson had to be stopped because he would have reached the control room eventually.

Yet, if John had to place his trust for the security of Atlantis with anyone then it would be O'Neill.

With this proposal made and a delineation of military duty partially agreed upon, Elizabeth activated her comlink and contacted Rodney, aware that his exclusion up until now had been simply to ensure Rodney did not bulldozer them into making a rash decision. All Elizabeth needed now was Rodney's approval before informing O'Neill and setting the wheels in motion.

John smiled at Rodney's bewildered expression as he slipped into the room fifteen minutes later. His hair was still damp, as if fresh from the shower, and he looked pissy, as if he had yet to inhale that first cup of coffee of the day. John obliged by sliding a mug across the table towards him, smiling at the look of gratitude before Rodney scowled again.

"So what could be so important that you had to drag me out of medical rest? My health could be severely undermined by--"

"General O'Neill has requested to stay on Atlantis as a civilian."

Rodney's eyes widened in shock and then in anger. "When? I thought we'd agreed that..." He clamped down on the next words and stared, tight-lipped, at Elizabeth. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her pointedly. "And?"

Elizabeth smiled at the defensive posture. "And we agree."

Rodney opened his mouth to start arguing, as if he had expected some opposition but he frowned instead. "You do?"

"Head of Internal Security," John added with a smile.

"Head of...Excellent idea, but that's hardly going to keep him fully occupied." He raised his chin in defiance. "I've thought of several options that would utilize his natural ease with the Ancient technology and..."

"You have, have you?" John leaned back in his seat, crossing his own arms. "That was quick."

"What?"

"Just remarking how...quickly you've taken to the idea of O'Neill staying on Atlantis."

Rodney had the decency to blush with embarrassment, hands flapping about in agitation. "Well it hardly requires a PhD to determine the usefulness of a second person with a strong command of the Ancient gene in...say...Atlantis? The lost city of the Ancients?"

John smirked, loving the sight of Rodney all flustered but he had to admit that Rodney had a point. Head of Internal Security would not take up all of O'Neill's time but John did have another idea to offer. He had done his own digging when he was back on Earth following the siege and had discovered that General O'Neill was not the academic slouch that he made himself out to be for those around him. He'd held a masters degree in Aeronautical Engineering before entering the Stargate program and, perhaps not so surprisingly considering the company he kept, had gained an honorary doctorate in Anthropology since then, based on his extensive reports from off-world missions. John's smile widened as, technically, that left O'Neill with a boot in both academic camps, soft and hard science, and John wondered how much teasing he might have with Rodney over that soft science connection. He decided he ought to casually drop it into the meeting right now but, as he drew in a breath, Elizabeth beat him to it.

"I am aware that Jack O'Neill has made a recent addition to his academic record." The confusion on Rodney's face put an impish glint into Elizabeth eyes. "An honorary doctorate...in Anthropology."

"What?!"

"And I do recall you mentioning that the science department had become unmanageable due to the many different disciplines. Perhaps it's time to move the social sciences to a new Chief."

Rodney opened his mouth to argue but snapped it shut, and John could see his mind racing, knowing exactly what Rodney was thinking by the expressions that crossed his animated face. First there was annoyance at the possible loss of part of his science domain but it ended with a slow but brilliant and wide smile as Rodney finally recognized that he would be losing only the headache of trying to manage an academic field that was outside his scope, for the most part, allowing him to concentrate more of his time and effort on the physical sciences.

"Hmm! He could have Hess as his deputy...unless we could persuade Daniel to stay too."

Rodney looked very eager at that suggestion and John hated to shoot it down, especially with his own interest in Daniel Jackson growing daily, but Daniel still had obligations to SG-1. Rodney seemed a little crestfallen at that but accepted that they had to fight one battle at a time. Once O'Neill was part of the command structure for Atlantis then they could work on getting Daniel assigned here permanently too, if he wanted to come.

"Okay," Elizabeth stated with a satisfied smile. "I still need to flesh out the reassignment of duties but it looks like we now have an addition to the command structure, if Jack agrees."

John smiled because O'Neill would make a useful ally for pushing military strategies past Elizabeth and Rodney though, no doubt, he would also make a strong ally for Rodney from a scientific viewpoint. The fact that Rodney was in a relationship with O'Neill barely warranted a concern because O'Neill was not the type of person to be swayed solely by personal issues.  
**--**  
"When were you going to tell me about the honorary doctorate?"

"Personally? Never." Jack pulled a face and shrugged. "I've spent the past two years working very hard on a _real_ doctorate. Figured it's never too late to join all you eggheads."

"But, but, but...*Anthro...pology*? What's wrong with a proper doctorate in Astrophysics...or Aeronautics? You have a masters in Aeronautics"

"Never could understand half of what Sam was saying. Or you, come to think of it. Daniel kinda made more sense, especially when me and Teal'c got stuck in that 24 hour loop for months. Spent whole weeks reading through Daniel's dissertations on various cultures, and learning languages like Goa'uld and Latin." Jack looked insufferably pleased with himself. "Discovered I was pretty good at it."

In contrast, Rodney looked aghast. He sighed deeply in exasperation, flopping back onto the bed amid the tangle of rumpled covers. The scent of sex lay heavy in the air and he felt too boneless and sated to argue further. The only consolation was that his lover would have the full academic qualifications needed to prove to the science community here on Atlantis that he was no Neanderthal grunt, even if it was a squishy science doctorate. If anything, it would make the transition to head of social sciences that much smoother. Less egos would be ruffled.

Jack had sprawled back onto the bed beside him, which impressed Rodney because the bed was not that wide, although Rodney had to admit that it was twice the size of most of the beds here on Atlantis. Rank--and a bad back--hath its privileges after all. Rolling onto his side, Rodney stared at the strong profile and the short strands of silver and gray hair that fell across his tall forehead. He lifted up onto his elbow, his other hand trailing over the sweat-softened curls of chest hair as he toyed with a nipple.

"So? How long until you're ready to present your dissertation?"

"Actually...I'm awaiting final approval."

"You've already defended..?"

"And that's why I'm here...taking a vacation."

"Then you're as good as...Does Elizabeth know?"

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Not yet. But I expect good news in the next data burst from the SGC."

One thing was puzzling Rodney, and that was Daniel. He knew Jack and Daniel had stayed in close contact since Jack's promotion to Washington, and who better to act as an advisor on a PhD in Anthropology than Dr. Daniel Jackson. Yet, Daniel had made no mention of this to Rodney even though Rodney had grilled him about Jack more than once over those days before he and Jack had come together. As bad as Rodney was with spilling information to Daniel, he knew how to push Daniel's buttons too and how to get him to blurt out snippets of information that Rodney would file away for later use. That was how Rodney knew about Jack's love of astronomy and the telescope set up on Jack's roof back on Earth. Therefore, something of this importance should have slipped out long before now, if only while Daniel was trying to make Jack even more impressive in Rodney's eyes, having guessed that Rodney had taken an interest in his friend.

Rodney had his suspicions that Jack had managed to keep this secret from Daniel, and there was one easy way to find out.

"Does Daniel know?"

Jack looked a little cagey. "Sort of."

"Sort of as in yes, he knows, or no, he doesn't know?"

"He thinks it's a new hobby. So I don't look a complete dork if someone should ask me anything...anthro...pology."

"You wanted to surprise him!" Rodney crowed triumphantly, finally understanding, and he knew he was right by the heat that flushed into Jack's cheeks.

Rodney leaned over and pressed a firm kiss against Jack's lips. "Your secret's safe with me," he murmured against the warm, kiss-softened lips before sinking deeper into the kiss, tongue making a silent request for access and slipping inside to duel lazily with Jack's. He pulled back a little and stared down at Jack with a little regret when nothing stirred below. "Wish I was twenty years younger."

Jack chuckled and drew Rodney back down, pulling him in tight across his chest, arms wrapped around Rodney.

"You and me both," he murmured back before pressing Rodney's head down against his chest.

Rodney let the strong, gentle hands caress him tenderly into a welcome and needed sleep, a small smile curving his lips as he imagined everyone's shock when they learned Jack had a real doctorate.

Two days later, Rodney could barely contain his nervousness as Elizabeth exchanged the usual pleasantries while Rodney monitored the data burst in both directions. He chewed on lower lip, teeth stinging flesh as he wondered how the SGC would react to Jack's request to take retirement, especially as Elizabeth had attached a contract for retaining Jack's services in Atlantis as a civilian. The four of them had worked out the details of that contract with a full job description covering both internal security and social sciences. All it needed was final approval from both the USAF and the International Oversight Advisory.

Personal messages were attached to the end and Rodney straightened as his program kicked in when it caught Jack's IDC. The temptation to hack into the message was terrible and he glanced across the control room, knowing he had no hope of keeping a guilty expression off his face. Jack was lounging on the walkway near Elizabeth's office, looking down into the gate room. Sheppard stood next to him in a stance that came somewhere between parade-rest and his normal slouch and, worryingly, both raised an eyebrow when they caught him staring.

The wormhole to the SGC disconnected and, deciding he could wait no longer, Rodney downloaded Jack's message to his PDA and strode towards him. He handed over the PDA, ignoring Jack's raised eyebrows of feigned questioning. They both knew what this might be. Jack stared at the PDA for a moment, stabbing at a few icons warily before Rodney gave up and grabbed the handheld back.

"Oh for..." Rodney pulled up the relevant file.

"I'm used to something less...sophisticated."

"Unfortunately, I don't have time to convert this to cave drawings."

"Did he just call me a caveman?"

Sheppard bit back a grin. "I think he did but then, even Zelenka only rates a Cro-Magnon on the Rodney scale of evolution."

Rodney rolled his eyes and handed the PDA back. "Which puts you and the rest of the military on par with a Troglodyte, Colonel." He waited but Jack read through the text far too slowly for Rodney's liking. "Well?"

"Hmm?" Jack tore his eyes away and looked far too innocent with his seemingly open expression of confusion.

"What does it say?"

The bemused look gave way to a slow and easy grin. Jack handed the PDA back to Rodney and let him see the most important paragraph.

Rodney hummed. "Can I?" He looked to Sheppard questioningly and handed over the PDA when Jack shrugged, enjoying the reaction as both of Sheppard's animated eyebrows crawled up into his mess of hair.

"Congratulations, Sir...or should I say Doctor?"

"Thanks...and I'd rather you didn't."

"What?" Rodney looked at Jack in confusion. "What's the point of having the title conferred upon you if you don't plan on using it?"

Jack merely turned another smug grin in his direction and walked away, leaving Rodney confounded once more.

**--**

Two Months Later:

As far as Jack was concerned, controlling internal security on Atlantis was a damn sight easier than heading up the Department of Homeworld Security. For starters, there were fewer diplomats and pen-pushers to negotiate with on a daily basis but, more importantly, Atlantis loved him as much as she loved Sheppard, willingly sitting up and begging at his every command. He doubted the novelty of opening doors and turning on lights at a thought would ever wear off and took a lot of pleasure in showing off that skill to Rodney. Of course, part of that pleasure was the way Rodney would mumble his annoyance at the ease with which Jack manipulated the city compared to his weaker version of the gene.

In addition, it helped that Jack's mind continued to recall information from the Ancient repository, making his interface with the city so much stronger with each passing month. Ideally, the sort of lock-down that had crippled Atlantis following the nanovirus infection was far less likely to occur again as he would be able to retain control of the Atlantis systems, locking down only the infected parts rather than the entire city. Though Jack hoped they never had to put that to the test.

Although his linguistics skills were not something he had ever anticipated using, his growing knowledge of Ancient had become valuable in translating some of the technical entries found on the database. Most words like Potentia could be figured out from their roots but others were not so clear, deriving from obscure references within Ancient literature and music. Sometimes the name would only trigger a memory of the story or bring the notes of a song into his head but the clue would sometimes lead the scientists to the answer. On one other time he had seen the actual equations and wrote them down in the hope that one of the mathematicians--Rodney, as it turned out--would put an English name to the resulting scrawl. He didn't understand the equations though, unable to form the connection that would turn the weird squiggles into something real--as he had when, under the influence of the repository, he had created the Replicator Disrupter to save Thor's people.

Jack had expected a little friction when he took over as head for social sciences but the news of his PhD squashed the objections of the few malcontents. As with the SGC, internal security had to cater for health and safety too, and so it seemed appropriate that Jack took overall command of Medical from Rodney. Like Rodney, Jack was more than happy to delegate all the infirmary work to Beckett and just accept daily reports. Medical research remained under Rodney's control though, along with the biologists and botanists.

Overall, things had worked out well with Zelenka remaining as Rodney's deputy for hard science, Beckett heading up medical care and research as the Chief Medical Officer, and Jean Hess acting as Jack's deputy. Except Hess had completed her year's contract and wanted to return to Earth, leaving Jack with an opening.

Today that post would be filled, and despite having grown quite fond of Hess, Jack could not be happier.

He wandered down to the gate room as soon as he was informed that the Daedalus had made orbit, arriving in time to see the flash of light from an Asgard transporter beam. Jack was not surprised to see Rodney and Elizabeth already awaiting the new arrivals but John Sheppard's sudden appearance threw him momentarily for none of this batch was military.

The small knot of newly-arrived scientists blinked and looked around them in awe, slowly moving apart as Elizabeth moved in with introductions, to reveal the one person Jack had been hoping to see.

Daniel blinked rapidly, his mouth creasing into a smile that tried to widen when he saw Jack. He took the final steps forward and accepted the manly shoulder slap.

"Looking good, Jack."

"You don't look so bad your..."

"You look terrible," Rodney stated with his usual amount of tact as he hugged Daniel. "What have you been doing to yourself?"

"Thanks, Rodney. Knew I could rely on you to boost my ego."

"I never meant...I..."

Daniel reached out and squeezed Rodney's arm reassuringly.

"Bad trip?" Jack asked, unable to hide a grin as Rodney was called away to deal with his new staff.

"Bad last few months."

Jack nodded, having been kept apprised of the situation with the Ori. He knew Daniel had suffered at their hands before SG-1 found Merlin's weapon and deployed it. They had neutralized the threat of the Ori for now, but Jack could see the cost of that battle in the weary man standing before him. Jack punched him lightly on the shoulder, offering up a grin and was pleased to see some of the weight of the past months drop from Daniel's tired eyes, his mouth curving into a warmer and far more relaxed smile.

"Ready to get to work?"

"Lead on."

Jack caught the small greeting Sheppard offered to Daniel as they passed him on the stairs, his eyes darting back to Daniel as he read more than simple pleasure in Sheppard's eyes. Daniel's blue eyes widened fractionally behind his glasses and Jack could see the slight flush that most people would put down to exertion from climbing the stairs.

Jack knew better than most people, and he grinned covertly, wishing his two friends every happiness should they start a relationship now that Daniel was here on Atlantis permanently.

**--**

 **Epilogue:**

Jack's thighs slapped against Rodney's upturned ass, reveling in the soft moans of pleasure as he thrust into the tight sheath of willing flesh. Rodney was braced on his forearms, his forehead pressed into the mattress but sliding forward with every eagerly demanded thrust. The litany of harder, harder interspersed with Jack's name sent Jack flying higher with every stroke. He reached beneath his lover, fist wrapping around Rodney's hard and leaking cock. The slight change in angle had Rodney keening softly and all it took was three strokes before Jack felt the heat of Rodney's release coating his fingers. As thigh and ass muscles clenched tight all around Jack, an all-pervasive warmth rolled through his own thighs, belly and groin as he tipped over the edge, emptying himself into his lover.

When his senses returned, he realized he had collapsed across Rodney's back, his cheek pressed against a sweaty shoulder blade. He could hear the rapid tempo of Rodney's heart, could feel it gradually slowing back to normal as Rodney recovered.

"That was...that was..." Rodney tried to raise a hand and Jack's grin broadened. He loved it when he managed to render Rodney speechless.

Carefully, he eased out of Rodney's body, sitting back on his heels so he could admire the amazing view of those surprisingly firm and rounded asscheeks displayed just for his pleasure. A tiny rivulet of Jack's come dribbled from the loosened hole and down the heavy sac to pool on the bed sheet below, and Jack felt a tiny twitch of pleasure buzz through him at this transitory sign of his possession. He leaned over and pressed soft, open mouthed kisses on Rodney's broad back, trailing down each vertebra until he reached the base, his tongue flicking out to lap at the bittersweet release, to dip into the still loose hole and feel the muscle quiver at his touch.

Rodney curved up, head thrown back, stretching languidly like a cat as Jack licked and caressed his lover until Rodney finally decided he'd had enough and pulled away, flopping back onto the bed in a boneless heap before grimacing and rolling out of the wet patch. He stretched again, blue eyes opening to hold Jack's fast; those eyes filled with contentment. Jack sat back on his heels again and grinned at the beautiful sight lying before him. Sweat-matted curls were plastered to a pale chest, his nipples were rosy in comparison from being licked and bitten and tweaked. His mouth, usually so mobile, was curved into a satisfied grin, the lips still swollen from their earlier kisses. Rodney's fine, baby-soft hair was all mussed, giving Sheppard a run for his money in the bad hair stakes and yet the debauched look was good on Rodney. His cheeks held a height of rosy color and his eyes glowed with love. Jack had never seen a more beautiful sight in all his days.

He crawled up the bed and flopped down beside Rodney, wincing when he landed in the rapidly cooling wet patch but he was too happy to make disgruntled noises. He snuggled in close, loving this cuddly aspect to Rodney. Too few of his past male lovers had enjoyed this post-coital intimacy, preferring to roll off, get cleaned up and leave as soon as the orgasmic blissful had faded. The comfort of holding Rodney in his arms, and of feeling Rodney's arms wrapped around him, might not have the sharp edge of sexual release but it thrummed deeper inside him, warming him to the soul. He sighed heavily, glancing across at the bedside clock and smiling, no longer needing to slip away in the early hours.

He thought back to the personal battle he had fought to stay on Atlantis, having convinced the USAF that he would be retiring whether the IOA confirmed his contract or not. In the end, they had agreed that it was better to have his services as a military advisor on Atlantis than lose him altogether. They had even offered him the opportunity to return to Earth to tie up loose ends but there was nothing needing his personal attention. When the Daedalus was due to leave for Earth, he gave a Caldwell a letter detailing the few items he would like to have here in Atlantis, those holding dear memories of Charlie, and let everything else go. A lawyer could handle the sale of his possessions because he had an unshakeable feeling he would never return to Earth again for more than a short visit. Without knowing it at the time, he had bought a one way ticket to the Pegasus galaxy when he stepped through the Stargate into Atlantis. The spontaneous hug and those amazing blue eyes had unlocked a need in him and he could no longer imagine any future where Rodney was not a major part of his life; the most important part.

Almost everything else he needed in his new life was already in Atlantis and, as of today, he could amend that to *everything* because Daniel was here too.

As if reading his thoughts, Rodney mumbled softly, "Do you think Daniel and Sheppard..?"

"Don't ask, don't tell."

Rodney poked him in the chest, turning the jab into a caress at the last moment. "Hardly applies under the circumstances, unless someone's bugging our quarters." There was a moment of silence before Rodney poked him again, this time with a genuine hard finger stab. "Well?"

"Well what?"

Rodney huffed. "Daniel? Sheppard?"

"Maybe."

Rodney made a noncommittal grunt and relaxed back against Jack's chest, his arm briefly tightening around him. He yawned wide and snuggled in deeper.

"You old softie," Jack rumbled playfully.

"Just want my friends to be happy."

Jack tightened his arms around Rodney, pressing a kiss into his hair. He knew better than to make promises concerning other people's happiness but he'd learned to be optimistic since having his own dreams of happiness come true.

THE END


End file.
